Produced by Nick Hodson of London, England




The Induna's Wife, by Bertram Mitford.

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THE INDUNA'S WIFE, BY BERTRAM MITFORD.



PROLOGUE.

Twilight was fast closing in upon the desolate site of the old Kambula
Camp, and the short, sharp thunderstorm which at the moment of
outspanning had effectually drenched the scant supply of fuel, rendering
that evening's repast, of necessity, cold commons, had left in its wake
a thin but steady downpour.  Already the line of low hills hard by was
indistinct in the growing gloom, and a far-reaching expanse of cold and
treeless plains made up a surrounding as mournful and depressing as
could be.

The waggon stood outspanned in the tall grass, which, waist high, was
about as pleasant to stand in as the drift of a river.  Just above, the
conical ridge, once crested with fort and waggon laagers, and swarming
with busy life, and the stir and hum of troops on hard active service,
now desolate and abandoned--the site, indeed, still discernible if only
by ancient tins, and much fragmentary residue of the ubiquitous British
bottle.  Below, several dark patches in the grass marked the
resting-place of hundreds of Zulu dead--fiery, intrepid warriors--mown
down in foil and sweeping rush, with lips still framing the war cry of
their king, fierce resolute hands still gripping the deadly charging
spear.  Now a silent and spectral peace rested upon this erewhile scene
of fierce and furious war, a peace that in the gathering gloom had in it
something that was weird, boding, oppressive.  Even my natives, usually
prone to laughter and cheery spirits, seemed subdued, as though loth to
pass the night upon this actual site of vast and tolerably recent
bloodshed; and the waggon leader, a smart but unimaginative lad, showed
a suspicious alacrity in driving back the span from drinking at the
adjacent water-hole.  Yes!  It is going to be a detestable night.

Hard biscuit and canned jam are but a poor substitute for fizzling
rashers and wheaten cakes, white as snow within and hot from the
gridiron; yet there is a worse one, and that is no biscuit at all.
Moreover, there is plenty of whisky, and with that and a pipe I proceed
to make myself as snug as may be within the waggon, which is not saying
much, for the tent leaks abominably.  But life in the Veldt accustoms
one to such little inconveniences, and soon, although the night is yet
young--has hardly begun, in fact--I find myself nodding, and becoming
rapidly and blissfully oblivious to cold splashes dropping incontinently
from new and unexpected quarters.

The oxen are not yet made fast to the disselboom for the night, and one
of my natives is away to collect them.  The others, rolled in their
blankets beneath the waggon, are becoming more and more drowsy in the
hum of their conversation.  Suddenly this becomes wide-awake and alert.
They are sitting up, and are, I gather from their remarks, listening to
the approach of something or somebody.  Who--what is it?  There are no
wild animals to reckon with in that part of the country, save for a
stray leopard or so, and Zulus have a wholesome shrinking from moving
abroad at night, let alone on such a night as this.  Yet on peering
forth, a few seconds reveal the approach of somebody.  A tall form
starts out of the darkness and the long wet grass, and from it the deep
bass tones of the familiar Zulu greeting: "Nkose!"

Stay!  Can it be?  I ought indeed to know that voice; yet what does its
owner here thus and at such an hour?  This last, however, is its said
owner's business exclusively.

"Greeting, Untuswa!  Welcome, old friend," I answered.  "Here is no fire
to sit by, but the inside of the waggon is fairly dry; at any rate not
so wet as outside.  And there is a dry blanket or two and a measure of
strong _tywala_ to restore warmth, likewise snuff in abundance.  So
climb up here, winner of the King's Assegai, holder of the White Shield,
and make thyself snug, for the night is vile."

Now, as this fine old warrior was in the act of climbing up into the
waggon, there came a sound of trampling and the clash of horns, causing
him to turn his head.  The waggon leader, having collected the span, was
bringing it in to attach to the yokes for the night, for it promised
soon to be pitch dark, and now the heads of the oxen looked spectral in
the mist.  One especially, a great black one, with wide branching horns
rising above the fast gathering sea of vapour, seemed to float upon the
latter--a vast head without a trunk.  The sight drew from Untuswa a
shake of the head and a few quick muttered words of wonderment.  That
was all then, but when snug out of the drizzling rain, warmed by a
measure of whisky, and squatting happy and comfortable in a dry blanket,
snuff-box in hand, he began a story, and I--well, I thought I was in
luck's way, for a wet and cheerless and lonely evening stood to lose all
its depression and discomfort if spent in listening to one of old
Untuswa's stories.



CHAPTER ONE.

THE TALE OF THE RED DEATH.

There was that about the look of your oxen just now, _Nkose_--shadowed
like black ghosts against the mist--that brought back to my old mind a
strange and wonderful time.  And the night is yet young.  Nor will that
tale take very long in telling, unless--ah, that tale is but the door
opening into a still greater one; but of that we shall see--yes, we
shall see.

I have already unfolded to you, _Nkose_, all that befell at the Place of
the Three Rifts, and how at that place we met in fierce battle and
rolled back the might of Dingane and thus saved the Amandebeli as a
nation.  Also have I told the tale of how I gained the White Shield by
saving the life of a king, and how it in turn saved the life of a
nation.  Further have I told how I took for principal wife Lalusini, the
sorceress, in whose veins ran the full blood of the House of
Senzangakona, the royal House of Zululand, and whom I had first found
making strange and powerful _muti_ among the Bakoni, that disobedient
people whom we stamped flat.

For long after these events there was peace in our land.  The arm of
Dingane was stretched out against us no more, and Umzilikazi, our king,
who had meditated moving farther northward, had decided to sit still in
the great kraal, Kwa'zingwenya, yet a little longer.  But though we had
peace from our more powerful enemies, the King would not suffer the
might of our nation to grow soft and weak for lack of practice in the
arts of war--oh, no.  The enrolling of warriors was kept up with
unabated vigour, and the young men thus armed were despatched at once to
try their strength upon tribes within striking distance, and even far
beyond the limits of the same.  Many of these were mountain tribes,
small in numbers, but brave and fierce, and gave our fiery youths just
as much fighting as they could manage ere wetting their victorious
spears in blood.

Now, although we had peace from our more formidable foes, yet the mind
of the King seemed not much easier on that account, for all fears as to
disturbance from without being removed, it seemed that Umzilikazi was
not wholly free from dread of conspiracy within.  And, indeed, I have
observed that it is ever so, _Nkose_.  When the greater troubles which
beset a man, and which he did not create, beset him no longer, does he
not at once look around to see what troubles he can create for himself?
_Whau_!  I am old.  I have seen.

So it was with Umzilikazi.  The fear of Dingane removed, the
recollection of the conspiracy of Tyuyumane and the others returned--
that conspiracy to hand over our new nation to the invading Amabuna--
that conspiracy which so nearly succeeded, and, indeed, would have
completely, but for the watchfulness and craft of the old Mosutu witch
doctor.  Wherefore, with this suspicion ever in the King's mind we,
_izinduna_, seemed to have fallen upon uneasy times.  Yet the principal
object of dislike and distrust to the Great Great One was not, in the
first place, one of ourselves.  No councillor or fighting man was it,
but a woman--and that woman Lalusini, my principal wife.

"Ha, Untuswa!" would the King say, talking dark, but his tone full of
gloomy meaning.  "Ha, Untuswa, but thine _amahlose_ [Tutelary spirits]
watch over thee well.  Tell me, now, where is there a man the might of
whose spear and the terror of whose name sweeps the world--whose
slumbers are lulled by the magic of the mighty, and who is greater even
than kings?  Tell me, Untuswa, where is such a man?"

"I think such is to be found not far hence, Great Great One.  Even in
this house," I answered easily, yet with a sinking fear of evil at
heart, for his words were plain in their meaning; my successes in war
surpassed by none; my beautiful wife, the great sorceress of the Bakoni,
the wandering daughter of Tshaka the Terrible.  And his tone--ah, that,
too, spoke.

"Even in this house!  _Yeh bo_!  Untuswa--thou sayest well," went on the
King softly, his head on one side, and peering at me with an expression
that boded no good.  "Even in this house!  Ha!  Name him, Untuswa.  Name
him."

"Who am I that I should sport with the majesty of the King's name?"  I
answered.  "Is not the son of Matyobane--the Founder of Mighty Nations--
the Elephant of the Amandebeli--such a man?  Doth not his spear rule the
world, and the terror of his name--_au_!--who would hear it and laugh?
And is not the bearer of that name greater than other kings--greater
even than the mighty one of the root of Senzangakona--whose might has
fled before the brightness of the great king's head-ring?  And again,
who sleeps within the shadow of powerful and propitious magic but the
Father and Founder of this great nation?"

"Very good, Untuswa.  Very good.  Yet it may be that the man of whom I
was speaking is no king at all--great, but no king."

"No king at all!  _Hau_!  I know not such a man, Father of the World," I
answered readily.  "There is but one who is great, and that _is_ the
King.  All others are small--small indeed."

I know not how much further this talk would have gone, _Nkose_; and
indeed of it I, for my part, was beginning to have more than enough.
For, ever now, when Umzilikazi summoned me to talk over matters of
state, would he soon lead the conversation into such channels; and,
indeed, I saw traps and pitfalls beneath every word.  But now the voice
of an _inceku_--or household attendant--was heard without singing the
words of _sibonga_, and by the way in which he praised we knew he
desired to announce news of importance.  At a sign from the King I
admitted the man.

"There are men without, O Divider of the Sun," he began--when he had
made prostration--"men from the kraals of Maqandi-ka-Mahlu, who beg the
protection of the King's wise ones.  The Red Magic has been among them
again."

"Ha!  The Red Magic!" said Umzilikazi, with a frown.  "It seems I have
heard enough of such childish tales.  Yet, let the dogs enter and whine
out their own story."

Through the door of the royal dwelling, creeping on hands and knees,
came two men.  They were not of our blood, but of a number whom the King
had spared, with their wives and children, and had located in a region
some three days to the northward as far as a swift walker could travel.
It was a wild and mountainous land--a land of black cliffs and
thunderous waterfalls--cold, and sunless, and frowning--a meet abode of
ghosts and all evil things.  Here they had been located, and, being
skilled in ironwork, were employed in forging spear-heads and axes for
our nation.  They were in charge of Maqandi-ka-Mahlu--a man of our race,
and a chief--and who, having been "smelt out" by our witch doctors, the
King had spared--yet had banished in disgrace to rule over these
iron-workers in the region of ghosts and of gloom.

Their tale now was this: The stuff which they dug from the bowels of the
earth to make the metal for our spears and axes was mostly procured in a
long, deep, gloomy valley, running right up into the heart of the
mountains.  Here they bored holes and caves for digging the stuff.  But,
for some time past, they had not been able to go there--for the place
had become a haunt of _tagati_.  A terrible ghost had taken up its abode
in the caves, and did a man wander but the shortest space of time from
his fellows, that man was never again seen.

He was seen, though, but not alive.  His body was found weltering in
blood, and ripped, not as with a spear, but as though by the horn of a
fierce and furious bull.  This had befallen several times, and had duly
been reported to the King--who would know everything--but Umzilikazi
only laughed, saying that he cared nothing that the spirits of evil
chose to devour, from time to time, such miserable prey as these slaves.
There were plenty more of them, and if the wizard animals, who dwelt in
the mountains, wanted to slay such, why, let them.

But now, the tale which these men told was serious.  They could no more
go to that place for the terror which haunted it.  They had tried
keeping together, so that none might fall a prey to the evil monster--
and, for some while, none had.  But there came a day when travelling
thus, in a body close together, through the gloom of the forest, a
sudden and frightful roaring, as of the advance of a herd of savage
bulls, burst upon them.  Some fell, half dead with fear; others, crying
out that they could see fearful shapes, with gigantic horns and flaming
eyes, moving among the trees, rushed blindly in all directions.  Of
thirty men who had entered that dreadful valley, ten only came forth,
nor of these could any be persuaded to return and see what had happened
to the remaining score.  But the seer, Gasitye, who knew no terror of
things of the other world, had ventured in.  Twenty bodies had he seen--
lying scattered--no two together--no, not anywhere two together--and all
had died the Red Death.

"And was this by day or by night?" said the King, who had been listening
with great attention to this tale.

"By day, O Ruler of the World.  While yet the sun was straight
overhead," replied the men.

"Well, I care not," said Umzilikazi, with a sneer.  "Go back now and
cause your seer, Gasitye, to charm away that _tagati_, and that soon,
lest I visit him and you with the fate of those who make witchcraft.
Shall we keep a dog who cannot guard our house?  For to what other use
can we turn such a dog?  Begone."

There was despair upon the faces of the two messengers as the meaning of
these words became plain to them--and in truth were they between two
perils, even as one who travels, and, being beset by a great fire,
fleeth before it, only to find himself stopped by a mighty and raging
river, whose flood he cannot hope to cross.  Yet the man who had spoken,
instead of immediate obedience, ventured further to urge his prayer with
the intrepidity and hopeless courage of such despair.

"Who are we that we should weary the ears of the Father of the Great?"
he went on.  "Yet, even a dog cannot entirely guard a house if he is but
a small dog, and they who would enter are many and strong.  He can but
give warning of their approach--and this is what we have done.  But the
King's magicians are many and powerful, and ours are weak.  Besides, O
Black Elephant, how shall metal be procured for the spears of the Great
Great One's warriors, when the place where it is procured is guarded by
the horns of the ghost-bulls, who slay all who go in?"

Now, I thought those slaves must indeed have touched the lowest depth of
despair and terror, that they dared to use such speech to the King.  And
upon the countenance of Umzilikazi came that look which was wont to mean
that somebody would never behold another sun to rise.

"Enough!" he said, pointing at the two messengers with his short-handled
spear.  "Return ye hence.  For the rest of you--hearken now, Untuswa.
Send one half of thy regiment of `Scorpions' under an experienced
captain, that they may drive the whole of the people of Maqandi within
this Ghost-Valley.  Then let them draw a line across the month thereof,
and slay every one who shall attempt to escape.  So shall the people of
Maqandi either slay this ghost or be slain by it.  I care not which.
Go?"

I rose to carry out the King's orders, and upon the faces of the
grovelling messengers was an awful expression of set, hopeless despair.
But, before I could creep through the low doorway, a sign from
Umzilikazi caused me to halt.  At the same time, a frightful hubbub
arose from without--the hubbub of a volume of deep, excited voices--
mingled with a wild bellowing, which was enough to make a man deaf.

"I think these ghost-bulls are upon us, too," said the King, with an
angry sneer.  "Look forth, Untuswa, and see whether all the world has
gone mad."

Quickly I gained the gate in the woven fence which surrounded the
_isigodhlo_.  From far and near people were flocking, while the great
open space within the kraal was becoming more and more densely packed;
and, making their way through the blackness of the crowd, which parted
eagerly to give them passage, came a weird and hideous throng, decked
with horrid devices of teeth and claws and the skulls of beasts, their
bodies hung with clusters of bleeding entrails and all the fooleries
which our _izanusi_ hang about themselves to strike terror into the
fearful.  These, leaping and bounding in the air, rushed forward till it
seemed they were about to bear me down and pour into the _isigodhlo_
itself.  But they halted--halted almost in the very gate--and redoubled
their bellowings, howling about the Valley of the Red Death and the woe
which should come upon our nation.  And all the people, their faces
turned earthward, howled in response.  Looking upon this, I bethought me
that there seemed truth in the King's words, and that all the world had
indeed gone mad.  Making a sign to the _izanusi_ to desist their
howlings--a sign, however, which they did not obey--I returned to the
royal presence to report what I had seen.

"Send my guard, Untuswa, to beat back this mob," said the
King.  "This must be looked into.  As for these"--pointing to the
messengers--"custody them forth, for it may be I have further use for
them."

Quickly I went out to issue my orders, and hardly had I done so, than
the King himself came forward, and making a sign to myself and two or
three other _izinduna_ to attend him, sat himself down at the head of
the open space.  The while the roars of _bonga_ which greeted his
appearance mingled with the howling of the gang of witch doctors and the
shouting and blows of the royal guard, beating back the excited crowd
with their sticks and shields.  In very truth, _Nkose_, it seemed as
though the whole nation were gathered there.

Suddenly a silence fell upon the multitude, and even the bellowing of
the _izanusi_ was stayed, as there came through the throng, creeping
upon their hands and knees, nearly a score of men.  Their leader was a
fine and well-built warrior of middle age, whom I knew as a fierce and
fearless fighter, and they had returned from "eating up" the kraal of
one of the subject tribes in accordance with the King's mandate.  Now
the leader reported having carried out his orders fully.  The evil-doers
were destroyed, their houses burnt, and their cattle swept off as
forfeit to the King.

"It is well," said Umzilikazi.  "Yet not for that ye have obeyed your
orders has the whole nation gone mad."

"There is more to tell, Great Great One," answered the warrior, upon
whose countenance, and upon the countenances of his band, I could descry
signs of dread.  "In returning we had to pass through the land of
Maqandi.  Two of us fell to the Red Death."

"To the Red Death?" repeated the King, speaking softly and pleasantly.
"Ha!  How and where was that, Hlatusa?"

Then the leader explained how he had allowed two of his followers to
wander into the Ghost Valley in pursuit of a buck they had wounded.
They had not returned, and when sought for had been found lying some
little distance apart, each terribly ripped and covered with blood, as
though they had been rolled in it.

"So?" said the King, who had been listening attentively with his head on
one side.  "So, Hlatusa?  And what did you do next, Hlatusa?"

"This, Black Elephant," answered the man.  "Every corner of that
_tagati_ place did we search, but found in it no living thing that could
have done this--ghost or other.  In every cave and hole we penetrated,
but nothing could we find, Father of the Wise."

"In this instance, Father of the Fools," sneered Umzilikazi, a black and
terrible look taking the place of the pleasant and smiling expression
his face had hitherto worn.  "Yet, stay.  What else did you find there?
No sign, perchance?"

"There was a sign, Divider of the Sun," replied Hlatusa, who now
considered himself, and they that were with him, already dead.  "There
was a sign.  The hoof-mark as of a huge bull was imprinted in the ground
beside the bodies."

"And wherefore did ye not rout out that bull and return hither with his
head, O useless ones?" said the King.

"No bull was it, but a ghost, Great Great One," replied the leader.  And
they who had been with him murmured strongly in support of his words.

"Now have I heard enough," said Umzilikazi.  "You, Hlatusa, you I send
forth at the head of twenty men, and you return, having lost two--not on
the spears of a fighting enemy, but in strange fashion.  And no one do
ye hold accountable for this, but return with a child-tale about ghosts
and the hoof-mark of a ghost-bull.  _Hamba gahle_, Hlatusa.  The
alligators are hungry.  _Take him hence_!"

With these fatal words the throng of slayers sprang forward to seize
him.  But Hlatusa waited not to be seized.  Rising, he saluted the King;
then turning, he stalked solemnly and with dignity to his doom--down
through the serried ranks of the people, down through the further gate
of the kraal, away over the plain, keeping but two paces in front of his
guards.  A dead silence fell upon all, and every face was turned his
way.  We saw him stand for a moment on the brow of the cliff which
overhung the Pool of the Alligators, wherein evil-doers were cast.  Then
we saw him leap; and in the dead silence it seemed we could hear the
splash--the snapping of jaws and the rush through the water of those
horrible monsters, now ever ravening for the flesh of men.



CHAPTER TWO.

"BEHOLD THE SIGN!"

The silence was broken by a long, muttering roll of thunder.  Masses of
dark cloud were lying low down on the further sky, but overhead the sun
darted his beams upon us in all the brightness of his mid-day
fierceness, causing the great white shield held above the King to shine
like polished metal.  To many of us it seemed that the thunder-voice,
coming as it did, was an omen.  The wizard spell of the Red Death seemed
to lie heavy upon us; and now that two of ourselves had fallen to its
unseen terror, men feared, wondering lest it should stalk through the
land, laying low the very pick and flower of the nation.  Murmurs--deep,
threatening, ominous--rose among the dense masses of the crowd.  The
King had decreed one victim, the people demanded another; for such was
the shape which now those murmurs took.

Umzilikazi sat in gloomy silence.  He liked not the sacrifice of good
and brave fighting men, and the thing that had happened had thrown him
into a dark mood indeed.  Not until the murmurs became loud and
deafening did he seem to notice them.  Then the _izanusi_, deeming that
their moment had come, took up the tale.  Shaking their hideous
ornaments and trappings, they came howling before the King; calling out
that such dark witchcraft was within the nation as could not fail to
destroy it.  But upon these the Great Great One gazed with moody eyes,
giving no sign of having heard them; and I, watching, wondered, for I
knew not what was going to follow.  Suddenly the King looked up.

"Enough of your bellowings, ye snakes, ye wizard cheats!" he thundered.
"I have a mind to send ye all into this Ghost Valley, to slay the thing
or be slain by it.  Say; why are ye not ridding me of this evil thing
which has crept into the nation?"

"That is to be done, Ruler of the World!" cried the chief of the
_izanusi_.  "That is to be done; but the evil-doer is great--great!"

"The evil-doer is great--great!" howled the others, in response.

"Find him, then, jackals, impostors!" roared the King.  "_Whau_!  Since
old Masuka passed into the spirit-land never an _izanusi_ have we known.
Only a crowd of bellowing jackal-faced impostors."

For, _Nkose_, old Masuka was dead.  He had died at a great age, and had
been buried with sacrifices of cattle as though one of our greatest
chiefs.  In him, too, I had lost a friend, but of that have I more to
tell.

Now some of the _izanusi_ dived in among the crowd and returned dragging
along several men.  These crawled up until near the King, and lay
trembling, their eyes starting from their heads with fear.  And now, for
the first time, a strange and boding feeling came over me, as I
recognised in these some of the Bakoni, who had been at a distance when
we stamped flat that disobedient race, and had since been spared and
allowed to live among us as servants.

"Well, dogs!  What have ye to say?" quoth the King.  "Speak, and that
quickly, for my patience today is short."

_Whau!  Nkose_!  They did speak, indeed, those dogs.  They told how the
Red Death was no new thing--at least to them--for periodically it was
wont to make its appearance among the Bakoni.  When it did so, it
presaged the succession of a new chief; indeed, just such a
manifestation had preluded the accession to the supreme chieftainship of
Tauane, whom we had burned amid the ashes of his own town.  The Red
Death was among the darker mysteries of the Bakoni _muti_.

Not all at once did this tale come out, _Nkose_, but bit by bit, and
then only when the Great Great One had threatened them with the
alligators--even the stake of impalement--if they kept back aught.  And
I--I listening--_Hau_!  My blood seemed first to freeze, then to boil
within me, as I saw through the ending of that tale.  The darker
mysteries of the Bakoni _muti_!--preluding the accession of a new king?
The countenance of the Great Great One grew black as night.

"It is enough," he said.  "Here among us, at any rate, is one to whom
such mysteries are not unknown.  The Queen of the Bakoni _muti_--who
shall explain them better than she?"

The words, taken up by the _izanusi_ and bellowed aloud, soon went
rolling in chorus among the densely-packed multitude, and from every
mouth went up shouts for Lalusini--the Queen of the Bakoni _muti_.
Then, _Nkose_, the whole plot burst in upon my mind.  Our witch doctors
had always hated my _inkosikazi_, because she was greater than they;
even as they had always hated me, because I had old Masuka on my side,
and was high in the King's favour, and therefore cared nothing about
them, never making them gifts.  Now their chance had come, since old
Masuka was dead and could befriend me no more, and my favour in the
King's sight was waning.  Moreover, they had long suspected that of
Lalusini the Great Great One would fain be rid; yet not against her had
they dared to venture upon the "smelling out" in the usual way, lest she
proved too clever for them; for the chief of the _izanusi_ had a lively
recollection of the fate of Notalwa and Isilwana, his predecessors.
Wherefore they had carefully and craftily laid their plot, using for the
purpose the meanest of the conquered peoples whose very existence we had
by that time forgotten.

Now the shouts for Lalusini were deafening, and should have reached my
kraal, which, from where I sat, I could just see away against the
hillside.  But the shouters had not long to shout, for again a way was
opened up, and through it there advanced she whom they sought.

No dread or misgiving was on the face of my beautiful wife, as she
advanced with a step majestic and stately as became her royal blood.
She drew near to the King, then halted, and, with hand upraised, uttered
the "_Bayete_" for no prostration or humbler mode of address was
Umzilikazi wont to exact from her, the daughter of Tshaka the Terrible,
by reason of her mighty birth.  Thus she stood before the King, her head
slightly thrown back, a smile of entire fearlessness shining from her
large and lustrous eyes.

"Greeting, Daughter of the Great," said Umzilikazi, speaking softly.
"Hear you what these say?"

"I have heard them, son of Matyobane," she answered.

"Ha!  Yet they spoke low, and thou wert yet afar off," went on the King
craftily.

"What is that to me, Founder of a New Nation?  Did I not hear the quiver
of the spear-hafts of Mhlangana's host long before it reached the Place
of the Three Rifts?"

"The Place of the Three Rifts," growled the King.  "_Hau_!  It seems to
me we have heard overmuch of that tale.  Here, however, is a new tale,
not an old one.  What of the Red Death?  Do these dogs lie?" pointing to
the grovelling Bakoni.

Lalusini glanced at them for a moment--the deepest scorn and disgust
upon her royal features--the disgust felt by a real magician for those
who would betray the mysteries of their nation's magic, and I, gazing,
felt I would rather encounter the most deadly frown that ever rested on
the face of the King himself than meet such a look upon that of my
_inkosikazi_, if directed against myself.

"They lie, Great Great One," she answered shortly.

Then the King turned such a deadly look upon the crouching slaves that
these cried aloud in their fear.  They vociferated that they were
telling the truth, and more--that they themselves had witnessed the
operations of the Red Death among their own people; that Lalusini
herself and her mother, Laliwa, had actually brought about the
destruction of Tauane's predecessor by its means, and that that of
Tauane himself had been decreed--that it always meant the accession of a
new ruler.

Now I, sitting near Umzilikazi, knew well what was passing in his mind.
As he grew older he had become more and more sour and suspicious.  Now
he was thinking that he himself was destined to die in blood, even as
that Great One, Tshaka, had died, that I, his second fighting induna,
his favourite war-councillor, should succeed him, and so win back not
only the seat of Matyobane, but the throne of Senzangakona for this
sorceress--this splendid daughter of Tshaka the Terrible.  So, too,
would the death of Tshaka be avenged.  And in Umzilikazi's look I could
read my own doom, and yet, _Nkose_, even at that moment not of myself
did I think.  I had only eyes for the tall, shapely form of my beautiful
wife thus put upon her trial before the King and the whole nation.  Then
Umzilikazi spoke.

"It seems we have spared too many slaves of this race of _Abatagati_.
Take these hence," pointing to the grovelling Bakoni.  "The alligators
are hungry."

There was a roar of delight from all who heard.  The slayers flung
themselves upon the shrieking slaves, dragging them away by the heels as
they rolled upon the ground imploring mercy, for they were too sick with
terror to stand upon their legs.  Shouts of hate and wrath followed them
as they were hurried away to the pool of death.  Indeed, such a rain of
blows and kicks fell upon them from those through whose midst they were
dragged that it seemed doubtful whether most of them would ever reach
the alligators alive.  For, _Nkose_, although in dead silence and pitied
by all, Hlatusa had gone through these same people to his doom, he was
one of ourselves, and a brave fighter; but these were of an inferior and
conquered race, and withal miserable cowards, wherefore our people could
not restrain their hatred and contempt.

"Hold!" roared the King, before the slayers had quite dragged these dogs
outside the kraal, and at his voice again silence fell upon the throng.
"Hold!  After feeding upon the flesh of a brave man I will not that my
alligators be poisoned with such carrion as this.  There may yet be more
royal meat for them," he put in, in a lower tone, and with a savage and
deadly sneer.  Then, raising his voice, "Let these dogs be taken up to
yonder hill and burnt."

A roar of delight broke from all, mingled with shouts of _bonga_ as to
the King's justice and wisdom.  And none were more pleased, I thought,
than the slayers, men of fierce and savage mind, who, from constantly
meting out torture and death, loved their occupation the more the
farther they pursued it.

For awhile there was silence.  Away upon a round-topped hillock, within
sight of all, the slayers were collecting great piles of dry wood, and
upon these the condemned slaves were flung, bound.  Then amid the fierce
roar and crackle of the flames wild tortured shrieks burst from those
who writhed there and burned, and to the people the shrieks were the
pleasantest of sounds, for the terror of the Red Death had strangely
fastened upon all minds, and they could not but hold that these who thus
died had in some way brought the curse of it upon them.

Again upon the stillness arose a long roll of thunder--this time loud
and near, for the great cloud which had been lying low down upon the
further sky was now towering huge and black, almost above the very spot
where burned those wretches, and the pointed flash which followed seemed
to dart in and out of the smoke which rose from the crackling wood pile.
The multitude, watching, began to murmur about an omen.

"Talk we now of this thing of evil," said Umzilikazi, at last.  "Thou,
Lalusini, art a pestilent witch.  For long hast thou been among us.  For
long has thy greatness been honoured, thou false prophetess, whose
promise is as far from fulfilment as ever.  Now thou shalt travel the
way of those whose predictions are false."

Black and bitter wrath was in the King's mind.  Hardly could he contain
himself, hardly could he speak for rage.  He must stop perforce, half
choking for breath.  And I, _Nkose_, I sitting there, how did I contain
myself, as I was obliged to behold my beautiful wife--whom I loved with
a love far surpassing that which I felt for King and nation, or my own
life a hundred times over--standing thus awaiting the word which should
adjudge her to a shameful and agonising death!  _Hau_!  I am an old man
now--a very old man--still can I see it before me; the huge kraal like a
full moon, the yellow domes of the huts within the ring fences, the
great open space in the middle black with listening people, bright with
distended eyeballs, and gleaming teeth showing white between parted
lips, and away beyond this the heavy smoke-wreath mounting from the
glowing wood-pile, the cries and groans of the expiring slaves, the
blackness of the thunder cloud, the fierce pale glare of the sun upon
the assegais of the armed guard, and upon the blaze of white of the
great shield held above the King.  _Yeh-bo_--I see it all--the angry
infuriated countenance of Umzilikazi, the dread anxiety on the faces of
the other _izinduna_, which was as the shrinking before a great and
terrible storm about to burst.  _Haul_ and I see more.  I see, as I saw
it then, the face of my beautiful wife, Lalusini, Daughter of the
Mighty--as she stood there before the Great One, in whose hand was
death--proud, fearless, and queenly.  And she was awaiting her doom.

Now she threw back her head, and in her eyes shone the light which must
oft-times have shone in the eyes of that Mighty One from whom she had
sprung.  Then she spoke:

"In the hand of the King is death, and even the greatest of those who
practise sorcery cannot withstand such--at least not always.  But know
this, son of Matyo-bane, with my death shall utterly perish all hope of
the seat of Senzangakona to thee and thine.  Further, know that, without
my help, the very House of Matyobane shall in two generations be rooted
up and utterly destroyed, scattered to the winds, and the people of the
Amandebeli shall become even as Amaholi to those who are stronger."

Those who heard these words murmured in awe, for over Lalusini's face
had come that inspired look which it wore when the spirit of divination
was on her.  But the King was beside himself with fury, and his features
were working as those of a man who has gone mad.

"So!" he hissed.  "So!  And I sit in my seat only by permission of a
witch--by permission of one who is greater than I!  So I am no longer a
King!" he mocked.  "Yet two bulls cannot rule in one kraal.  So, sister,
thou shalt have a high throne to rule this nation from--as high a throne
as had the traitor Tyuyumane before thee."  Then raising his voice--for
they had hitherto talked in a tone low enough to be heard only by the
King and the few who sat in attendance round him--"Make ready the
stake--the stake of impalement--for the _inkosikazi_ of Untuswa.  Make
ready a high throne for the Queen of the Bakoni _muti_."

_Whau, Nkose_!  I had fought at the side of Umzilikazi ever since I
could fight.  I had stood beside him when, single-handed, we hunted
fierce and dangerous game.  I had stood beside him in every peril, open
or secret, that could beset the path of the founder of a great and
warrior nation, who must ever rule that nation with a strong and iron
hand.  In short, there was no peril to which the King had been exposed
that I had not shared, and yet, _Nkose_, I who sat there among the
_izinduna_, unarmed and listening, knew that never, since the day of his
birth, had he gone in such peril of instant death as at that moment when
he sat there, his own broad spear in his right hand, and guarded by the
shields and gleaming assegais of his body-guard--pronouncing the words
which should consign my _inkosikazi_ to a death of shame and of
frightful agony.  For the spell of Lalusini's witchcraft lay potent and
sweet upon my soul--and I was mad--yet not so mad but that as I sat
there unarmed, I could measure the few paces that intervened between
myself and the Great Great One--_could mark how carelessly he held the
broad-bladed spear within his grasp_.

Even the slayers--for not all had gone forth to the burning of the
Bakoni--even the slayers stared as though half stupefied, hesitating to
lay hands upon that queenly form, standing there erect and unutterably
majestic.  Upon us the spell of the moment was complete.  We leaned
forward as we sat, we _izinduna_, and for the rest of us it was as
though stone figures sat there watching, not living men of flesh and
bones.  For myself, I know not how I looked.  But how I felt--ah! it was
well my thoughts were buried.  The armed guards, too, seemed bewildered
with awe and amazement.  The moment had come.  The Red Death had indeed
presaged the accession of a new King--but for the daughter of Tshaka the
Mighty, the swift and merciful stroke of a royal spear should end her
life, instead of the stake of agony and shame.  For myself I cared not.
I was mad.  The whole world was whizzing round.

Through it all I heard the voice of Lalusini.

"Pause a moment, Ruler of the Great," she was saying, and her voice was
firm and sweet and musical as ever, and utterly without fear.  "Pause a
moment for a sign."

She had half turned, and with one hand was pointing towards the
ascending smoke-cloud towering above the hill of death.  A sharp,
crashing peal of thunder shook the world, and the lightning-gleam seemed
to flash down right upon the smouldering pile.  A silence was upon all
as, with upturned faces, King, _izinduna_, guards, slayers, the whole
multitude sat motionless, waiting for what should next befall.  Not long
had we to wait.

Lalusini stood, her eyes turned skyward, her hand outstretched, her lips
moving.  To many minds there came the recollection of her as she had
thus stood, long ago, singing the Song of the Shield--that glorious
war-song which had inspired each of our warriors with the daring of ten,
which had saved the day to us at the Place of the Three Rifts.  Then
there came such a deafening crash that the very earth rocked and reeled;
and from the rent thunder cloud a jagged stream of fire poured itself
down upon the remainder of the burning wood, scattering logs, sparks,
cinders, and the bones of the tortured slaves, whirling them in a mighty
shower far and wide over the plain.  Those of the slayers who still
lingered around the spot lay as dead men.

"Behold the sign, O son of Matyobane!" cried Lalusini, in clear, ringing
tones, turning again to the King.  "Yonder are the dogs who lied against
me.  The heavens above would not suffer their very bones to rest, but
have scattered them far and wide over the face of the world.  No others
have met with harm."

Now all began to cry aloud that indeed it was so; and from the multitude
a great murmur of wonderment went up.  For then those of our men who had
been struck down were seen to rise and walk slowly down towards the
kraal--stupified, but alive and unharmed.  Then I, who could no longer
sit still, came before the King.

"A boon, Great Great One," I cried.  "Suffer me to go and root out this
mystery of the Red Death, and slay for ever this evil thing that causeth
it; I alone.  So shall it trouble the land no more."

A hum of applause rose from among my fellow _izinduna_, who joined with
me in praying that my undertaking be allowed.

"Ever fearless, Untuswa," said the King, half sneering; yet I could see
that the wrathful mood was fast leaving him.  "Yet thou art half a
magician thyself, and this thing seems a thing of fearful and evil
witchcraft.  But hear me.  Thou shalt proceed to the Valley of the Red
Death, but with no armed force; and before this moon is full thou shalt
slay this horror, that its evil deeds may be wrought no more.  If
success is thine, it shall be well with thee and thine; if failure, thou
and thy house shall become food for the alligators; and as for thine
_inkosikazi_, the stake which she has for the time being escaped shall
still await her.  I have said it, and my word stands.  Now let the
people go home."

With these words Umzilikazi rose and retired within the _isigodhlo_,
and, as the rain began to fall in cold torrents, in a very short time
the open space was clear, all men creeping within the huts to take
shelter and to talk over the marvel that had befallen.  But while only
the _izanusi_ retired growling with discontent, all men rejoiced that
Lalusini had so narrowly escaped what had seemed a certain doom.

Such doom, too, _Nkose_, had the King himself narrowly escaped; but that
all men did not know, it being, indeed, only known to me.



CHAPTER THREE.

AN OMINOUS PARTING.

You will see, _Nkose_, that my times now were stormy and troublesome,
and indeed I have ever observed that as it is with nations and people so
it is with individuals.  There comes a time when all is fair--all is
power and strength and richness--then comes a decline, and neither
nation nor individual is as before.

Such a time had come upon myself.  After the battle of the Three Rifts,
when we had rolled back the might of Dingane--a matter, indeed, wherein
I had fully borne my part--there had followed a time of great honour and
of rest.  I was, next to the King, the greatest man in the nation, for
Kalipe, the chief fighting induna, was getting on in age, and would fain
have seen me in his place, having no jealousy of me.  I had taken to
wife the beautiful sorceress whose love I had longed to possess;
moreover, the King had rid me of Nangeza, whose tongue and temper had
become too pestilent for any man to bear aught of.  My cattle had
increased, and spread over the land, and they who owned me as chief were
many, and comprised some of the best born and of the finest fighting men
in the nation.  Yet this was not to last, and as age and security
increased for Umzilikazi, his distrust of me gained too, and now I knew
he would almost gladly be rid of me, and quite gladly of Lalusini, my
principal wife.  Yes.  To this had things come.  I, Untuswa, the second
in command of the King's troops, who had largely borne part in the
saving of our nation, who had even been hailed as king by the flower of
the Zulu fighting indunas, had now to set out upon a ghost hunt, and, in
the event of failure, the penalty hanging over me was such as might have
fallen upon a miserable cheat of an _izanusi_.

Thus pondering I took my way back to my principal kraal, followed by
Lalusini and others of my wives and followers who had separated from the
throng and joined themselves on to me when the order was given to
disperse.  Arrived there, I entered my hut, accompanied by Lalusini
alone.  Then I sat down and took snuff gloomily and in silence.  This
was broken by Lalusini.

"Wherefore this heaviness, holder of the White Shield?" she said.  "Do
you forget that you have a sorceress for _inkosikazi_?"

For a while I made no reply, but stood gazing at her with a glance full
of admiration and love.  For, standing there, tall and beautiful and
shapely, it seemed to me that Lalusini looked just as when I first
beheld her in the rock cave high up on the Mountain of Death.  Time had
gone by since I had taken her to wife, yet she seemed not to grow old as
other women do.  My two former wives, Fumana and Nxope, were no longer
young and pleasing, but Lalusini seemed ever the same.  Was it her magic
that so kept her?  She had borne me no children, but of this I was
rather glad than otherwise, for we loved each other greatly, and I
desired that none should come between to turn her love away from me, as
children would surely do.  For my other wives it mattered nothing, but
with Lalusini it was different.  I loved her, _Nkose_, as some of you
white people love your women.  _Whau_!  Do you not allow your women to
walk side by side with you instead of behind?  This I have seen in my
old age.  And those among us who have been at Tegwini [Durban] tell
strange tales of white men who go out with their women, that they might
load themselves with all the little things their women had bought from
the traders.  Few of us could believe that, _Nkose_--the tale is too
strange; and yet it was somewhat after this manner that I loved
Lalusini--I, the second induna of the King's warriors, I, who since I
was but a boy had slain with my own hand more of the King's enemies than
I could count.  I, moreover, who had known what the ingratitude and
malice of women could do, in the person of my first wife, Nangeza, for
whom I had sacrificed my fidelity to the King and the nation--even my
life itself.  But with Lalusini, ah! it was very different.  No evil or
sullen mood was ever upon her; nor did she ever by look or word give me
to understand that a daughter of the House of Senzangakona, the royal
house of Zululand, might perchance be greater than even the second
induna of a revolted and fugitive tribe, now grown into a nation.  Even
her counsels, which were weighty and wise, she would put forward as
though she had not caused me to win the White Shield--had not saved our
nation at the Place of the Three Rifts.

"It seems to me, Lalusini," I said at last, "it seems to me that in this
nation there is no longer any room for us two.  I have served Umzilikazi
faithfully and well.  I have more than once snatched back the life of
the King, when it was tottering on the very brink of the Dark Unknown,
but kings are ever ungrateful; and now I and my house are promised the
death of the traitor.  The destruction of the Red Terror, which is my
ordeal, is no real trial at all--it is but a trick.  The King would be
rid of us, and, whether I succeed or whether I fail, the Dark Unknown is
to be our portion."

Lalusini bent her head with a murmur of assent, but made no remark.

"And now I am weary of this ingratitude," I went on, sinking my voice to
a whisper, but speaking in a tone of fierce and gloomy determination.
"What has been done before can be done again.  I have struck down more
of the enemies of our nation than the King himself.  One royal spear--
one white shield is as good to sit under as another; and--it is time our
new nation sat down under its _second_ king."

"Great dreams, Untuswa," said Lalusini, with a smile that had something
of sadness in it.

"Great acts shouldst thou say rather, for I am no dreamer of dreams," I
answered bitterly.  "Ha! do I not lead the whole nation in war? for, of
late, Kalipe is old, and stiff in the limbs.  One swift stroke of this
broad spear, and the nation will be crying `_Bayete_' to him who is its
leader in war.  Ah! ah!  What has happened before can happen again."

But here I stopped, for I was referring darkly to the death of that
Great Great One, the mighty Tshaka, from whose loins my _inkosikazi_ had
sprung.  Yet no anger did she show.

"So shall we be great together at last, Lalusini, and my might in war,
and thy _muti_ combined, shall indeed rule the world," I went on.  "Ha!
I will make believe to go on this _tagati_ business, but to-night I will
return in the darkness, and to-morrow--_whau_!--it may indeed be that
the appearance of the Red Death has presaged the accession of a new
King--even as those dogs, who were burnt to-day, did declare.  How now
for that, Lalusini?"

"The throne of Dingiswayo is older than that of Senzangakona, and both
are older than that of Matyobane," she answered.  "Yet I know not--my
_muti_ tells me that the time is not yet.  Still, it will come--it will
come."

"It will come--yes, it will come--when we two have long since been food
for the alligators," I answered impatiently.  "The King's word is that I
slay this horror--this _tagati_ thing--by the foil of the moon.  What if
I fail, Lalusini?"

"Fail?  Fail?  Does he who rolled back the might of the Twin Stars of
Zulu talk about failure?  Now, nay, Untuswa--now, nay," she answered,
with that strange and wonderful smile of hers.

"I know not.  Now cast me `the bones,' Lalusini, that I may know what
success, if any, lieth before me against the Red Terror."

"The bones?  Ha!  Such methods are too childish for such as I, Untuswa,"
she answered lightly.  "Yet--wait--"

She ceased to speak and her face clouded, even as I had seen it when she
was about to fall into one of her divining trances.  Anxiously I watched
her.  Her lips moved, but in silence.  Her eyes seemed to look through
me, into nowhere.  Then I saw she was holding out something in her hand.
Bending over I gazed.  She had held nothing when we sat down nor was
there any place of concealment whence she could have produced anything.
But that which lay in her hand was a flat bag, made of the dressed skin
of an impala.  Then she spoke--and her voice was as the voice of one who
talks in a dream.

"See thou part not from this, Untuswa.  Yet seek not to look within--
until such time as thy wit and the wit of others fail thee--or the
_muti_ will be of no avail--nay more, will be harmful.  But in extremity
make use of what is herein--in extremity only--when at thy wit's end."

Still held by her eyes, I reached forth my hand and took the _muti_ bag,
securing it round my neck by a stout leather thong which formed part of
the hide from whence the bag had been cut.  As I did so, Lalusini
murmured of strange things--of ghost caves, and of whole impis devoured
in alligator-haunted swamps--and of a wilder, weirder mystery still,
which was beyond my poor powers of understanding--I being but a fighter
and no _izanusi_ at all.  Then her eyes grew calm, and with a sigh as of
relief she was herself again.

Now I tried to go behind what she had been saying, but it was useless.
She had returned from the spirit world, and being once more in this,
knew not what she had seen or said while in the other.  Even the _muti_
pouch, now fastened to my neck, she glanced upon as though she had never
seen it before.

"Go now, Untuswa," she said.

We embraced each other with great affection, and Lalusini with her own
hands armed me with my weapons--the white shield, and the great
dark-handled assegai which was the former gift of the King, also my
heavy knobkerrie of rhinoceros horn, and three or four light casting
spears--but no feather crest or other war adornments did I put on.  Then
I stepped forth.

No armed escort was to accompany me, for I must do this thing alone.
But I had chosen one slave to bear such few things as I should require.
Him I found awaiting me at the gate of the kraal.

It was evening when I stepped forth--evening, the busiest and cheeriest
time of the day--yet my kraal was silent and mournful as though
expecting every moment the messengers of death.  The cattle within their
enclosure stood around, lowing impatiently, for the milking was
neglected; and men, young and old, sat in gloomy groups, and no women
were to be seen.  These murmured a subdued farewell, for not only was I,
their chief and father, about to sally forth upon an errand of horror
and of gloom, but in the event of failure on my part, who should stand
between them and the King's word of doom?

Through these I strode with head erect as though proceeding to certain
success--to a sure triumph.  When without the gate I turned for a moment
to look back.  The rim of the sinking sun had just kissed the tips of
the forest trees on the far sky-line, and his rays, like darts of fire,
struck full upon my largest hut, which was right opposite the great gate
of the kraal.  And there against the reed palisade in front of the door
stood Lalusini, who had come to see the last of me, ere I disappeared
into gloom and distance.  _Au_!  I can see her now, my beautiful wife,
as she stood there, her tall and splendid form robed as it were in
waving flames of fire, where the last glory of the dying sun fell full
upon her.  And through the dazzle of this darting light, her gaze was
fixed upon me, firm and unflinching.  Yes, I can see her now as I saw
her then, and at times in my dreams, _Nkose_, old man as I am, my heart
feels sore and heavy and broken as it did then.  For as I returned her
parting gesture of farewell, and plunged into the forest shades, at that
moment a voice seemed to cry in my ears that I should behold her no
more.  In truth was I bewitched.

------------------------------------------------------------------------

"Will you not rest a while, lord, and suffer me to prepare food, for we
have travelled fast and far?"

The voice was that of my attendant slave, and it struck upon my ears as
a voice from the spirit world, so wrapped up was I in the gloom of my
own thoughts.  Now I glanced at the sky and judged the night to be more
than half through.  And we had marched since the setting of the sun.
But the light of the half moon was sufficient for us, for the forest
trees were of low stature and we were seldom in complete darkness.

"Rest a while?  Not so, Jambula," I answered.  "Are we not on the King's
errand? and from hence to the full of the moon is not far."

"The forest is loud with the roarings of strange ghost-beasts, my
father; and the time of night when such have most power must already be
here.  And we are but two," he urged, though with great deference.

"And what are such to me--to me!"  I answered, "I who am under the
protection of great and powerful _muti_?  Go to, Jambula.  Art thou
turning fearful as time creeps upon thee?"

"I fear nothing within touch of thy _muti_, father," he answered, liking
not the question.

And then, indeed, I became alive to the meaning of the man's words, for
strange and fearful noises were abroad among the shadows on either hand,
low sad wailings as of the ghosts of them that wander in darkness and
pain, mingling with the savage howls of ramping beasts into whose grim
bodies the spirits of many fighters had passed, to continue their fierce
warring upon such as still trod this earth in the flesh.  And over and
above these came the mighty, muffled, thunderous roar of a lion.

But those sounds, many and terrifying as they were, held no fears for
me--indeed, they had hitherto fallen upon deaf ears--so filled was my
soul with forebodings of another kind.  Now, however, a quick, startled
murmur on the part of my follower caused me to halt.

Right in front I saw a huge shape--massive and shaggy--and I saw the
green flash of eyes, and the baring of mighty jaws in the moonlight.
Then up went the vast head, and a quivering thunderous roar shook the
night.

Then the beast crouched.  It was of enormous size in the half light.
Was it only a lion--or a ghost-beast, which would spread and spread till
its hugeness overshadowed the world?  If the latter, mere weapons were
powerless against it.

Jambula stepped to my side, every muscle of his frame tense with the
excitement of the moment.  His shield was thrust, forward, and his right
hand gripped the haft of a broad-bladed stabbing spear.  But I--no
movement did I make towards using a weapon.  I advanced straight upon
the beast, and as I did so, some force I knew not caused my hand to rest
upon the _muti_ bag which hung upon my breast.

With a snarling roar the beast moved forward a little, preparing for its
rush.  We were but ten paces apart.  Then the fierce lashing of the tail
ceased, the awful eyes seemed to glare with fear where rage had fired
them before--the thunder of the threatening roar became as the shrill
whine of a crowd of terrified women--and, backing before me as I
advanced, the huge beast slunk away in the cover, and we could hear its
frightened winnings growing fainter and fainter in the distance.

By this, _Nkose_, two things were clear--that the shape, though that of
a huge and savage lion, was but a shape to give cover to something which
was not of this world--and that Lalusini's _muti_ was capable of
accomplishing strange and wonderful results.



CHAPTER FOUR.

THE ABODE OF THE TERROR.

Through the whole of the following day, and the night after, we
travelled; and on the next morning, before the son had arisen, we came
upon a large kraal.  The land lay enshrouded in heavy mist, and the
hoarse barking of many dogs sounded thick and muffled.  Armed men sprang
to the gate to inquire our errand, but one word from my slave, Jambula,
caused them to give us immediate admission.  This was the kraal of
Maqandi-ka-Mahlu, the chief over the workers in iron, in whose midst the
horror named the Red Death had broken forth.

As I strode across the centre space--the domes of the encircling huts
looming shadowy through the mist--Maqandi himself came forth to meet me.
Yet although showing me this mark of deference, I liked not his manner,
which was sullen, and somewhat lacking in the respect due from an
inferior and disgraced chief towards one who dwelt at the right hand of
the King, and who was, moreover, the second in command of the King's
army.  But it seemed to me that fear was in his mind, for he could not
think that an induna of my rank would arrive alone, attended by one
slave, and I think he expected every moment the signal which should
bring my followers swarming into the kraal to put him and his to the
assegai and his possessions to the flames.

"What is the will of the Great Great One, son of Ntelani?" he said, as
we sat together within his hut alone.  "_Hau_!  I am an old man now, and
troubles grow thick on every side.  I have no people, and am but
taskmaster over a set of miserable slaves--I, who fought with the
assegai and led warriors to victory at the Place of the Three Rifts,
even as you did yourself, Untuswa.  Yes, troubles are upon me on every
side, and I would fain sit down at rest within the Dark Unknown."

I looked at Maqandi, and I pitied him.  He had, indeed, grown old since
we had fought together in that great battle.  His face was lined and his
beard had grown grey; and his hair--which, being in some measure in
disgrace, he had neglected to shave--seemed quite white against the
blackness of his head-ring.  Yet with all his desire to sleep the sleep
of death, there was in his eyes a look of fear; such a look as may be
descried in the faces of those to whom the witch-finder's rod draws very
near.  Yes, I pitied him.

"The will of the Great Great One is not with thee for the present,
Maqandi," I said, desiring to reassure him.  "Now, hearken, and give me
such aid as I need, and it may be that the head-ring of the son of Mahlu
may yet shine once more in its place among the nation."

"Ha!  Sayest thou so, holder of the White Shield?" he answered quickly,
a look of joy lighting up his face.  "Is not all I have at the disposal
of the second induna of the King?"

"That is rightly said, Maqandi," I replied.  "For never yet did I fail
those who did well by me.  And now we will talk."

I unfolded my plan to the chief over the ironworkers, and as I did so
his face grew sad and heavy again--for I could see he doubted my success
in ridding the land of this terror--and then would not he, too, be
sacrificed to the anger of the King?  But I enjoined upon him silence
and secrecy--telling him that his part lay in strictly obeying my orders
and supplying my need.  This, so far, lay in requiring two of the slave
ironworkers to be in attendance upon me at sundown, for I intended
proceeding to the Valley of the Red Death that very night.

Food was brought in, and _tywala_, and we ate and drank.  Then I lay
down and slept--slept hard and soundly throughout the heat and length of
the day.

When I awoke the sun was declining from his highest point in the
heavens.  My slave Jambula was already waiting and armed before the door
of my hat.  Beside him, too, were those I required to be in attendance.
Both went before me, uttering words of _bonga_.

"Why are these armed?"  I said, noting that the two ironworkers carried
spears and axes.  "I need no armed force.  Let them leave their weapons
here."

A look of fear spread over the faces of both slaves at these words, and
they reckoned themselves already dead men.  For although weapons could
be of no avail against a thing of _tagati_ and of terror, such as had
already laid low so many of their number, and indeed two of our own
tried warriors, in a death of blood, yet it is in the nature of man to
feel more confident when his hand holds a spear.  But at my word they
dropped their weapons and stood helpless.

Now, _Nkose_, not without reason did I so act.  The King's word had been
that I should slay this horror accompanied by no armed force, and
although two such miserable fighters as this race of slaves could supply
were of no more use with arms in their hands than without, yet I would
not give Umzilikazi any chance of saying I had not fulfilled his
conditions.  Besides, I had a purpose to which I intended putting these
two, wherein weapons would avail them nothing at all.

I took leave of Maqandi-ka-Mahlu and set forth--I and Jambula and the
two workers in iron.  Such men of our people as I encountered saluted me
in gloomy silence, and as I passed the kraals of the iron-workers the
people came forth and prostrated themselves on the ground, for my
importance was twofold; I represented the majesty of the King, and
further, some inkling had got abroad that my errand lay to investigate,
and, if possible, bring to an end the terror of the Red Magic.

From the kraal of Maqandi we could already see the great mountain range
in whose heart lay the locality of this terror, and shortly, ere the
last rays of the sun faded from the world, we stood before a dark and
narrow defile.  We had left behind the dwellings of men, though
plentiful traces of their occupation would meet our eyes, being left by
the iron-working parties.  Through this defile a thin trickle of water
ran, though in times of rain and storm the place showed signs of pouring
down a mighty and formidable flood.  High overhead the slopes were
covered with thick bush and forest trees, and above this, again, walls
of red-faced rock seemed to cleave the sky.  As we entered this gloomy
place the terror on the faces of the slaves deepened, and even I,
_Nkose_, felt not so easy in my mind as I would have it appear.

Soon we came out into more open ground; open immediately around us, for
on raising my eyes I saw that we were in a large valley, or hollow.  A
ring of immense cliffs shut in the place as with a wall, nor, save the
way by which we had come in, could my glance, keen and searching as it
was, descry any means by which a man might find a way out.

The bottom of this strange valley was nearly level, and well grown with
tall forest trees and undergrowth; not so thick, however, but that there
were grassy open spaces, bestrewn with large rocks and boulders.  But
from the level floor of the hollow robe little or no slope.  The great
iron faces of the cliffs rose immediately, either in terraces or soaring
up to a great height.  Such was the aspect of the Valley of the Red
Death.

That it was indeed the dreaded valley, the looks on the faces of the two
iron-workers were sufficient to show.  But I, gazing earnestly around
and noting that there was but one way in or out, reckoned that the first
part of my errand would not be hard--to find the accursed thing.  Then a
further examination of the cliffs, and I felt not so sure, for
irregularly along their faces were black spots of all shapes and sizes.
These were the mouths of caves.

Now, as we stood there, the light of day had all but faded from the
world, and already one or two stars were peeping over the rim of the
vast cliff-wall rearing up misty and dim to the height of the heavens.
Little sound of life was there, from bird, or beast, or insect; and this
of itself added to the grey and ghostly chill which seemed to brood over
the place; for in that country night was wont to utter with more voices
than day.  But the golden bow of a young moon, bright and clear, gave a
sufficient light to make out anything moving, save under the black
darkness of the trees.

"What is thy name?"  I said suddenly, turning to one of the slaves.

"Suru, father," he replied.

"Well then, Suru, attend," I said.  "Remain here, in this open space
beside this small rock, and stir not hence until I send for or call
thee.  To fail in thy orders in the smallest particular is death."

But the man sank on the ground at my feet.

"Slay me now, father," he entreated, "for death by one blow of the spear
of the mighty do I prefer to the awfulness and horror of the death which
shall come upon me here alone."

"But death by one blow of the spear shall not be thy portion, oh fool,"
I answered, mocking him.  "Ah, ah!  No such easy way is thine, oh dog,
oh slave.  The stake of impalement shall be thy lot, oh Suru.  Think of
it, thou hast never seen it.  Ask Jambula here how long a man may live
when seated upon that sharp throne.  For days and days may he beg for
death, with blackened face and bursting eyeballs and lolling tongue, and
every nerve and muscle cracking and writhing with the fiery torture.
Why surely the death which this ghost could bring upon thee here would
be mercy compared with such a death as that.  But I think I will leave
thee no choice.  Bind him, Jambula.  Even a bound sentinel is better
than none, though more helpless.  If Suru will not keep his watch a free
man he shall keep it bound.  Ah, ah!"

That settled all his doubts.  As Jambula made a step towards him, Suru
cried out to me to pardon his first hesitation, and to allow him to obey
my orders at any rate unbound.  I agreed to this, for he was frightened
enough, and indeed, _Nkose_, as he moved away to take up the position I
had assigned to him, his look was that of one who stands on the brink of
the Pool of the Alligators with the slayers beside him.

Leaving Suru to his solitary post, I moved back with Jambula and the
other slave to near the neck of the narrow passage by which we had
entered the hollow, for I wanted to see whether the thing of dread came
in when night fell, or whether it abode within the place itself.  This
we could do, for I chose a position a little way up the hillside,
whence, by the light of the moon, I could command a clear space over
which anything approaching from without could not but pass.  So we sat
beneath a cluster of rocks, and watched, and watched.

Night had fallen, mysterious and ghostly.  The stars burned bright in
the heavens, yet it seemed as though some black cloud of fear hung
above, blurring their light.  From the open country far beyond came the
cry of hyaenas, and the sharp barking yelp of the wild hunting dog
calling to its mates; but in the drear gloom of this haunted valley, no
sound of bird or beast was there to break the silence.  So the night
watches rolled on.

I know not whether I slept, _Nkose_; it may be that I partly did; but
there came a feeling over me as of the weight of some great terror, and
indeed it seemed to hold me as though I could not move.  Was it an evil
dream?  Scarcely, for, as with a mighty effort, I partly threw off the
spell, my glance fell upon the face of Jambula.

He was gazing upward--gazing behind him--gazing behind him and me.  His
jaw had fallen as that of a man not long dead, and his eyeballs seemed
bursting from their sockets, and upon his face was the same awful look
of fear as that worn by the slave, Suru, when left to his solitary
watch.  I followed his glance, and then I too felt the blood run chill
within me.

Rising above the rocks, at the foot of which we sat, a pair of great
branching horns stood forth black against the sky.  Slowly, slowly, the
head followed, till a pair of flaming eyes shone beneath, seeming to
burn us as we crouched there.  But the size of it!  _Whau_!  No animal
that ever lived--even the largest bull in the King's herd--ever attained
to half the size.  Thoughts of the _tagati_ terror rushed through my
mind.  Should I creep round the rocks and slay the monster, while its
attention was taken up watching my slaves?  Would it indeed fall to
mortal weapon?  And at that moment, I, the fearless, the foremost in the
fiercest battle, the second commander of the King's armies, felt my
heart as water within me.  But before I could decide on any plan the
thing vanished--vanished as I gazed.

It was coming round the rocks, of course.  In a moment we should receive
its onslaught, and three more would be added to the number of the
victims of the Red Death.

But--after?  I thought of my beautiful wife, writhing her life out upon
the stake of agony.  I thought of my kinsmen and followers given over to
the death of the alligators, and in a moment my heart grew strong again.
I felt nerved with the strength of ten men.  Let the thing come; and
gripping my broad assegai, the royal spear, and my great white shield,
the royal gift, I stood above the two scared and cowering slaves, ready
to give battle to this terror from the unseen world.  And in the short
space of silence, of waiting, it seemed that I lived the space of my
whole life.

But as I thus waited there rang forth upon the night a shrill, wild
echoing yell--such a cry as might issue from the throat of one suffering
such unheard of torments as the mind of man could ever invent.  It
pealed forth again louder, more quavering, rending the night with its
indescribable notes of terror and agony--and it rose from where we had
left the slave, Suru, to keep his grisly watch alone in the blackness of
the forest.  There was silence, but immediately that was rent by another
sound--a terrible sound, too--the savage growling roars as of an
infuriated bull--receding further and further from the place whence the
death cry had arisen, together with a crashing sound as though a great
wind were rushing away further and further up the haunted valley.

For long did that fearful death-yell ring in my ears, as I stood
throughout the night watches, grasping my spear, every moment expecting
the onslaught of the thing--for, of course, it would return, where more
victims awaited.  Then the thought came to me that it only dared attack
and slay the unarmed; that at the sight of a warrior like myself, armed
and ready for battle, it had retired to vent its rage upon an easier
prey; and this thought brought strength and encouragement, for I would
find no great difficulty in slaying such.  But with the thought came
another.  The two men of Hlatusa's band had been slain as easily and
mysteriously as the iron-working slaves--slain in broad daylight--and
they were well-armed warriors, and men of tried valour.  In truth, the
undertaking seemed as formidable as ever.

Even that night came to an end, and the cheerfulness and warmth of the
newly-arisen sunbeams put heart even into the two badly-frightened
slaves; and, feeling strong in my presence, their fears yielded to
curiosity to learn the exact fate of Suru--not that any of us really
doubted what that fate had been.

With spear held ready, and none the less alert because it was day, and
the valley was now flooded with the broad light of the sun, I quickly
made my way down, followed by Jambula and the other, to where I had left
the slave the night before.  It was as I thought.  There he lay--dead;
crushed and crumpled into a heap of body and limbs.  He had tried to
run.  I could see that by the tracks, but before he had run ten steps
the terrible ghost-bull had overtaken him and flung him forward.  The
great hole made by the entering horn gaped wide between his ribs, and,
tearing forward, had half ripped him in two.  The grass around was all
red and wet with half-congealed blood, and in the midst, imprinted deep
and clear as in the muddy earth after rain, two great hoof marks, and
those of such a size as to be imprinted by no living animal.

So now I had seen with my own eyes a victim of the terror of the Red
Death, and now I myself must slay this horror.  But how to slay a great
and terrible ghost--a fearful thing not of this world?



CHAPTER FIVE.

GASITYE THE WIZARD.

For long I stood there thinking.  I looked at the ground, all red and
splashed with blood.  I looked at the distorted body of the dead slave
and the great gaping wound which had let out the life--the sure and
certain mark of the dreaded Red Death--always dealt as it was, in the
same part of the body--and for all my thought I could think out no
method of finding and slaying this evil thing.  Then I thought of the
_muti_--the amulet which Lalusini had hung around my neck.  Should I
look within it?  Her words came back to me.  "Seek not to look within
until such time as thy wit _and the wit of others_ fail thee."  Yet, had
not that time come?  I could think of no plan.  The monster was not of
this world.  No weapon ever forged could slay it; still there must be a
way.  Ha! "_the wit of others_!"  Old Masuka had departed to the land of
spirits himself.  He might have helped me.  Who could those "others" be,
of whom my sorceress-wife had spoken while her spirit was away among the
spirits of those unseen?

"Remain here," I said suddenly, to Jambula and the other slave.  "Remain
here, and watch, and stir not from this spot until I return."

They made no murmur against this--yet I could see they liked not the
order.  But I gave no thought to them as I moved forward with my eyes
fixed upon the tracks of the retreating monster.

The bloody imprint of the huge hoofs was plain enough, and to follow
these was a work of no difficulty.  Soon, however, as the hoofs had
become dry, it was not so easy.  Remembering the crashing noise I had
heard as the thing rushed on its course, I examined the bushes and
trees.  No leaves or twigs were broken off such as could not but have
happened with such a heavy body plunging through them.  Then the
hoof-marks themselves suddenly ceased, and with that, _Nkose_, the blood
once more seemed to tingle within me, for if the thing had come no
further was it not lying close at hand--those fiery eyes perhaps at that
very moment watching me--those awful horns even now advancing silent and
stealthy to rip and tear through my being?  Ha!  It seemed to me that
this hunting of a terrible ghost was a thing to turn the bravest man
into a coward.

Then as I stood, my hearing strained to its uttermost, my hand gripping
my broad spear ready at any rate to fight valiantly for life, and all
that life involved, something happened which well-nigh completed the
transformation into a coward of a man who had never known fear.

For now a voice fell upon my ears--a voice low and quavering, yet
clear--a voice with a strange and distant sound as though spoken afar
off.

"Ho! fearless one who art now afraid!  Ho! valiant leader of armies!
Ho! mighty induna of the Great King!  Thou art as frightened as a little
child.  Ha, ha, ha!"

This last was very nearly true, _Nkose_--but hearing it said, and the
hideous mocking laugh that followed, very nearly turned it into a lie.

"I know not who speaks," I growled, "save that by the voice it is a very
old man.  Were it not so he should learn what it means to name me a
coward."

"Ha, ha, ha!" screamed the voice again.  "Brave words, O holder of the
King's assegai.  Why, thy voice shakes almost as much as mine.  Come
hither--if thou art not afraid."

From where the bush grew darkest and thickest the voice seemed to come.
I moved cautiously forward, prepared at every step to fall into some
trap--to meet with some manifestation of abominable witchcraft.  For
long did I force my way through the thick growth, but cautiously ever,
and at last stood once more in the open.  Then astonishment was my lot.
Right before me rose a great rock wall.  I had reached the base of one
of the heights which shut in the hollow.

"Welcome, Untuswa," cackled the voice again.  "Art thou still afraid?"

Now, _Nkose_, I could see nobody; but remembering the Song of the
Shield, and how Lalusini had caused it to sound forth from the cliff to
hearten us during the battle--she herself being some way off--I was not
so much amazed as I might have been, for the voice came right out of the
cliff.

"If thou art not afraid, Untuswa," it went on, "advance straight, and
touch the rock with thy right hand."

I liked not this order, but, _Nkose_, I had ever had to do with
magicians, and had dipped somewhat into their art, as I have already
shown.  Here, I thought, was more sorcery to be looked into, and how
should I root out the sorcery of the Red Magic save by the aid of other
sorcery?  So I advanced boldly, yet warily.  And then, indeed, amazement
was my lot.

For, as my right hand touched it, the hard rock moved, shivered.  Then a
portion of this smooth, unbroken wall seemed to fall inward, leaving a
black gaping hole like a doorway, through which a man might enter
upright.

"Ho, ho!  Untuswa!" cackled the voice again, now from within the hole.
"Welcome, valiant fighter.  Enter.  Yet, wilt thou not leave thy weapons
outside?"

"Not until I stand once more in the presence of him who sent me do I
disarm, O Unknown One.  And now, where art thou? for I like better to
talk to a man with a voice than to a voice without the man."

"And how knowest thou that I am a man, O Fearless One?  Yet, enter,
weapons and all.  Ha!  Knowest thou not _this_ voice?"

_Whau_!  It seemed to me then that my flesh crept indeed, for I did know
that voice.  Ah, yes, well indeed; and it was the voice of one who had
long since sat down in the sleep of death--the voice of old Masuka, the
mightiest magician our nation had ever seen.

Then, indeed, did I enter, for, even though dead, the voice was that of
one who had done naught but well by me during life, and I feared not a
change the other way now.  I entered, and, as I did so, I stood in
darkness once more.  The rock wall had closed up behind me.

Now my misgivings returned, for, _Nkose_, no living man, be he never so
brave, can find himself suddenly entombed within the heart of the earth
alone, the voice of one who has long been dead talking with him in the
black, moist darkness, and not feel some alarm.  Again the voice spoke,
and this time it was not that of Masuka, but the mocking cackle which
had at first startled me.

"Ho, ho!  Untuswa, the valiant, the fearless.  Dost thou not tremble--
thou who art even now within the portal of the Great Unknown?  Did ever
peril of spear, or of the wrath of kings, make thy face cold as it now
is?  Ha, ha!"

True indeed were the words, for the position was fearful; but then so
was that which had been the means of driving me into it.  But I
answered:

"I have seen strange and mysterious and terrifying things before, my
father, else would I fear greatly now.  Yet let us talk face to face."

For a moment there was no reply, then with startling suddenness a light
flashed forth.  On the floor just in front of me burned a small fore--
throwing a ball of green misty light upon the tomb-like blackness.
Within this I could make out the figure of a man--a very old man.

A man, did I say?  _Whau_!  It was more like that of a monkey, or a
great crouching spider.  The limbs were thin as the shaft of a spear--
too withered and dried even to show the wrinkles of age; the face, too,
was like a dry piece of skin spread over the skull; and on the head a
wisp or two of white hair.  If it was a man, in truth he must have lived
nearly as long as the world itself.  His hands, which were like the
claws of a bird, were spread over the fire, which burned not upon the
floor, but in a large clay bowl.  Into this he seemed to be sprinkling
some kind of powder which caused the green flame to leap and hiss.

But now another sound stopped my ears; an awesome and terrible sound--a
sound full of fear and agony indescribable--for it was again the
death-yell, such as I had heard in the darkness of the night when the
slave, Suru, looked upon the Red Terror and parted with life.  And now
it was not night, but broad, clear, golden day--outside the cavern at
least--and the other slave had parted with life by the same dread means;
and I--while this thing of horror was abroad--this monster I had come to
slay--here was I imprisoned within the heart of the earth--held there at
the will of a being who seemed less a man than the ghost of one who had
died while the world was yet young.  I leaped to my feet.

"Ha, ha, ha!  Sit again, induna of the King, who knows not fear,"
cackled the shrivelled old monkey before me.  "Ha, ha, ha!  But now I
think thou art afraid."

"Afraid or not, thou evil scorpion--thou creeping wizard--if I stand not
in the light of day before I strike the ground with my foot three times,
this spear shall see if there be any blood to run from thy dried-up old
heart."  And, raising the blade aloft, I struck the ground once with my
foot.

"Ha, ha, ha!" cackled the wizard again, still scattering his magic
powder into the fire.  "Look again, Untuswa; look again."

I did look again, I could not do otherwise, and then I stood as one
turned into stone--with the spear still uplifted--unable to move hand or
foot, as I glared in front of me.  For the whole vault was filled with a
vivid green flash, and in it the wizard seemed to dissolve.

His shrivelled limbs seemed to turn into black, horrible snakes, which
glided away hissing into the darkness beyond; then the light sank
somewhat, and before me there started up faces dim and shadowy, and
their aspect turned my heart into water indeed, for I was gazing upon
the faces of those I knew had long been dead.

Dim and shadowy as they were, I knew them all, knew them at first sight.
There was Hlatusa, who had been sent to "feed the alligators" by reason
of this very magic I was here to destroy.  There was Tyuyumane, who had
conspired with the Amabuna to overthrow our nation; and Notalwa, the
chief of our _izanusi_, who had aided him, both faces wreathed with hate
and torture as I had last beheld them, writhing on the stake of
impalement.  There were many others who had died for the conspiracy of
Ncwelo's Pool.  There was the face of my brother, Sekweni--he who had
been slain for sleeping at his post--and that of Gungana, the induna
whom I myself slew, and to whose command I had succeeded.  All these
were glowering upon me with a very whirlwind of hate and vengeance, and
I--_whau_!--I was as a man who had died ten deaths.  Then I saw the face
of Tauane, the chief of the People of the Blue Cattle, and--Ha! what was
that?  The face of Lalusini, beautiful, but sad and agonised?  Yet no.
But as a flash I had seen it, and lo! it became that of Nangeza, my
erstwhile _inkosikazi_, even as when she had failed in her attempt upon
the life of the song.  And then indeed did I know what hate and
vengeance could look like.  For long it seemed I stood there face to
face with that terrible countenance--with it alone--and my lungs now
seemed to fill with choking fiery air.  I beheld a vast array defiling
before me--of warriors I had met in battle, of all races, but chiefly
those of our parent nation.  On, ever, they passed, silent grim
spectres, with broad spear and tufted shield, even as in life.  Others
followed densely in rank, company upon company.  _Hau_!  Once more the
battle!  I heard the clash of shields, the shiver of assegai hafts, the
flash and flame as of fire weapons.  I saw the red blood spout and flow;
I heard the roaring of an army of warriors in the full career of their
victorious charge; my ears were dulled by the screams of the vanquished,
for mercy, for pity; the wild hiss and whistle of the conquerors as they
stabbed and stabbed; and lo! blood swirled around my feet in rivers, and
still the screaming and wailing of those beneath the spear went on.
Then I could no longer breathe.  The earth itself seemed to be heaping
on high to fall on me and crush me to dust.  I sank down, as it seemed,
in death.



CHAPTER SIX.

THE GHOST-BULL.

I was not dead, _Nkose_; or, indeed, how should I be here telling you my
story?  Or, if I were--well, at any rate, the magic which had been
powerful enough to draw me through the abode of those who had become
ghosts was powerful enough to bring me back to life and to the world
again--and yet I know not.  It is a terrible thing to look upon the
faces of those who have long been dead; and how shall a man--being a
man--do this unless he join their number?  Such faces, however, had I
looked upon, for, as I opened my eyes once more to the light of the sun,
no dim recollection of one who has slept and dreamed was mine.  No; the
mysterious cave, the magic fire, the fearsome sights I had beheld--all
was real--as real as the trees and rocks upon which I now looked--as
real as the sky above and the sun shining from it.

Yes; I was in the outer air once more.  I rose and stood up.  My limbs
were firm and strong as before, my hand still grasped the broad spear--
the white shield lay at my feet.  Before me was the smooth rock wall,
there the exact spot where it had opened to receive me.  But there it
might remain, closed for ever, for all I cared.  I had no wish to look
further into its dark and evil mysteries.  But now, again, the voice
came back to my ears, faint and far away this time, but without the
mocking mirth which had lured me before to what might have been my doom.

"Ho, Untuswa!" it cried; "wouldst thou see more of the unseen?  Wouldst
thou look further into the future?"

"I think not, my father," I answered.  "To those who deal in magic be
the ways of magic, to warriors the ways of war--and I am a warrior."

"And thine _inkosikazi_, Untuswa, what of her?"

"Help me to slay the ghost-bull who deals forth the Red Death, my
father!"  I pleaded eagerly.

There was no answer to this for long.  Then, weary of waiting, I was
about to turn away, when once more the voice spake from within the
rock--faint, as before.

"Great is the House of Matyobane; great is the House of Senzangakona;
Umzilikazi is ruler of the world to-day--but Dingane is greater.  Yet
to-morrow, where now are the many nations they have stamped flat there
shall _they_ be.  Dust--all dust!  Gasitye sees it."

"Ha!  And shall I see it too, my father?"

"Thou shalt see it, Untuswa.  Thou, too, shalt see it."

Now, when I heard the name of Gasitye, I knew it as the name of a great
seer and prophet who dwelt alone among the mountains, and who was held
in wide repute among all tribes and peoples, near and far.  His own
tribe nobody knew exactly, but it was supposed that his age was three
times that of the oldest man known.  Even Umzilikazi himself had more
than once sent secretly to consult him, with gifts; for the rest, nobody
cared to interfere with him, for even the most powerful of kings does
not desire the enmity of a great and dreaded sorcerer, whose magic,
moreover, is real, and not as that of the tribal _izanusi_--a cheat to
encompass the death of men.  And now I had encountered this world-famed
wizard; had beheld him alone in the heart of the rock, whose face he had
the power to open and shut at will.

"Help me to slay the ghost-bull, my father," I entreated again.

"And when thou hast slain it--what then?"

"Then it shall be well with me and mine."

"Well with thee and thine?  Will it then--with thee and thine!  Ha, ha!"
repeated the voice within the cliff, in the same tone of mockery as
before.  "Go now and slay it, Untuswa, thou valiant one.  Go!"

I waited some little time, but no further answer could I obtain, though
I spoke both loud and softly.  Then I turned away.

As I did so a strange feeling came over me, a feeling as of the
faintness caused by starvation.  The fumes of the wizard fire had worn
off in the clear open air, and I felt as though I could spend the rest
of my life eating, so hungry was I.  So, losing no time, I started back
to where I had left Jambula.

Then upon my mind came the recollection of the death-yell I had heard
when within the vault.  Ha!  I must proceed with care.  I glanced
upward.  The sun was well up when I entered the rock; now it was at its
highest overhead.  I had not been as long in that vault of fear as it
seemed.

Now there struck upon my nostrils a most horrible stench as of death and
putrefaction.  What did it mean?  I had passed this spot this very
morning and the air was pure and clear.  Death might have taken place--
but putrefaction?--_au_, there was not time for that.  Yet this was a
place of witchcraft, where everything was possible.  And, thus thinking,
I came right upon a human body.

It was in a horrible state, _Nkose_, in the state of one who has been
dead eight or ten days.  Yet here such could not have been the case, for
in the swollen, half-decayed features, as well as by articles of
clothing, I recognised the second of the two slaves, whom I had left
alive and well that same morning, but a very few hours before.  Yet,
there it lay, beneath a tree, with upturned face, and across the
decaying ribs the rending gash left by the horn of the ghost-bull.

Now I heard a voice in salute, behind me--a voice I knew.  Looking up, I
beheld my slave, Jambula.

He was looking strangely at me.  Then he broke forth into extravagant
words of welcome, and it seemed to me he had been badly frightened, and
was glad enough to behold me once more.  That was it, of course; so
giving no further thought to the matter at all, I bade him find food.
He had a number of speckled pigeons, which he had knocked over with his
kerries; and having kindled a fire on the flat top of a high rock for
safety's sake--_whau, Nkose_!--there was soon nothing left of those
birds.  The while Jambula eyed me strangely.

Now this Jambula--although my slave--was a man I held in great favour.
He was not of any of the races we had conquered, but came of a tribe
further to the southward than even the Zulu arms had ever reached.  Him
I had captured while storming the fortress of a mountain tribe, and the
King had allotted him to me: He was a tall, strong man, and knew not
fear, and was faithful and devoted to me as any dog.  Now he said:

"I think _this_ night must this thing of _tagati_ be slain, my father."

"We think the same, Jambula," I answered.  "But what I cannot quite
think out is _how_.  But that will come."

"Nevertheless, let it be this night, father.  I have a plan."

This plan he then unfolded to me, and by the time we had talked it out
and around it was nearly dark--nearly time to set it working.

Never had any spot struck upon my mind as more ghostly and even
terrifying than that haunted valley when night drew fairly down; and,
_Nkose_, what I had seen and gone through in the wizard cave that
morning seemed to have sapped my former fearlessness.  A low-lying mist
wreathed around the tree-stems and bushes, thick to near the height of a
man, then thinning out dimly just enough to show out the twinkle of a
star or two.  But there was light enough for our purpose.

Hard by the place where Suru, the first slave, had been killed was an
open space, thickly studded with rocks embedded in the earth, and one
side of this open was overhung with mimosas of a good height and
strength.  Clambering up one of these, I lay out upon the spreading
branches.  Jambula remained below.

The night watch wore on--even the night side of life seemed hushed in
this abode of wizardry and fear.  Suddenly all the blood within me
tingled and burned.  Something was moving.  And then above the ghostly
wreathings of the white mist I could see the gigantic head--the huge
horns curving upwards--of the ghost-beast.

Only the head was visible as, tilted upwards, nose in air, it moved
above the sea of vapour, to and fro, as though seeking for something or
somebody--for a fresh victim, perhaps--and I thought it might indeed
soon find one.  And as I looked the mist suddenly rolled away, revealing
the dark form of Jambula, standing upright against a small rock.

For the moment the beast did not see him.  It continued to run hither
and thither in the moonlight, and as I marked its gigantic proportions,
my heart sank, for I knew that to kill such a thing as this
single-handed was very nearly the hardest task ever entrusted to me.

It was huge in the dim light--black as night, and as large as an
elephant almost.  There was that in the very size of the thing no less
than in the glaring ferocity of its eyes--which was enough to turn a
man's heart to water--for it could not be a thing of this earth.  How,
then, could it be slain?

Now it began to mutter, like the growlings of a heavy thunderstorm, as
it ran to and fro, shaking its horrible head, and its dark, shaggy
frontlet of hair.  _Whau_!  That was a fearful sight as the thing drew
nearer.  What of Jambula!  He had not moved, beyond half turning his
head to get a better view of the horror.  Would his heart fail him?  I
almost expected it would.

Ha!  It had seen him.  It dropped into a sort of stealthy crouch, more
like that of a leopard or a lion than the movement of any horned animal;
and thus it came up swiftly behind him.

But Jambula was not asleep--oh no!  There was no lack of wakefulness in
him.  In a moment he whirled behind a rock, as the ghost-bull, uttering
a roar that shook the world, came at him with the swiftness of a
lightning flash.

Then began a scene indeed.  Jambula, watching his opportunity, flitted
from rock to rock, but not less swiftly did the monster come after him--
seeming to fly through the air as it leaped over some of the lower rocks
which were in its way.  _Hau_!  Could this last?  Would not Jambula, out
of breath, falter for one instant?  Would not his foot stumble in the
tortuous rapidity of his flight?  _Au_!  Did that happen he were lost--
we both were lost.

Hither and thither he sped, the horrible beast ever behind him, roaring
in a fashion to turn a man's heart to water--the foam flying from its
mouth, the points of its huge horns tossing wildly, its savage eyes
seeming indeed to flash flame.  Would they never come beneath the tree
where I--the great assegai gripped and ready--lay out along the bough
waiting my chance?

This came.  Jambula, who had been drawing the thing nearer and nearer to
my side of the ground, now broke from his shelter, and ran with all the
swiftness of which he was capable beneath my place of ambush.  After him
came the ghost-beast, right under me.

This was my chance, _Nkose_, and my only one.  Swift as the movements of
the horror itself, I dropped down upon the thing's back, and clinging
fast with the one hand, with the other I drove the point of my great
assegai into the joint of the spinal bone behind the skull.

_Whau, Nkose_!  That was a moment.  I know not quite what I expected to
happen.  I felt the point of the great horn, thrown backward, narrowly
graze my side; then I was hurled through the air, as the huge body,
arrested in mid course, turned right over, falling with its head twisted
under its own enormous weight.

I was on my feet in a moment--not daring to think I had slain the
monster--although I had felt the blade of my noble spear bite deep into
the marrow.  But there it lay, a huge black mass in the moonlight.
While I stood contemplating it, still panting after my exertions and the
fall, I heard the voice of Jambula:

"That was well done, my father.  Those horns will deal out the Red Death
no more."

"I know not whether a headless ghost may come to life again, Jambula," I
said, "but anyhow we will cut off the head of this one.  But, first of
all, this"--and I buried the blade of my great spear in the thing's
heart.

We were both strong men, Jambula and I, yet it was with a vast deal of
labour we at last succeeded in cutting off the head, which was twisted
under the huge body.

"_Whau_!" exclaimed Jambula, gazing upon the great deluge of blood which
poured forth upon the ground.  "It is as though the blood of all those
slain by the Red Death were flowing there.  But now, father, suffer me
to ran to Maqandi's kraal and fetch slaves to carry this, and indeed,
the skin and hoofs, to lay before the King, for we have no time to
lose."

"No time to lose!"  I repeated.  "What mean you?"

He pointed upward with his blood-smeared assegai.

"The moon," he said.

Then, indeed, _Nkose_, amazement was my lot--amazement and dismay.  And
well it might be.  For last night the moon had not quite passed its
first quarter.  _To-night it was nearly full_.

Like one in a dream I gazed.  Anything might be possible in this abode
of _tagati_, but that the moon should change in one day from half to
nearly full--_au_! that was too much.

"What does it mean, Jambula?"  I said at length.  "Last night the moon
was less than half, and now--?"

"_Au_!" muttered Jambula, bringing his hand to his mouth with a strange
sort of laugh.  "Who am I that I should contradict you, my father?  But
last night the moon was nearly as it is now.  But the night you left us
it was but at half."

"And was not that last night, O fool?  In truth the wizardry of this
place has eaten into thy brain.  And yet--!"

There was the moon, _Nkose_, within a day or two of full.  It could not
lie, even though Jambula could.  Stupidly I gazed at it, then at him.

"And how long ago is it that I left you, Jambula?"

"Six days, father."

Ha!  Now I saw.  Now everything was clear.  The wizard, and the _muti_
fire--the green, choking vapour that had filled my lungs and brain,
causing me to see strange and fearful things--had kept me in a state of
slumber.  For six days I had lain within the heart of the rock, and I
had thought it but the short part of one day.  My hunger on my
recovery--the state of putrefaction of the body of the slave whom I had
supposed to have been slain only that morning--the change of the moon--
all, indeed, stood clear enough now.

But whatever Jambula may have imagined, it was not in my mind to tell
him, or anybody, what had really happened, for it is not good among us
for a man to have a name for dealings with _abatagati_.  So I sent him
off there and then to Maqandi's kraal, with orders to bring back a
number of men immediately to flay the great ghost-bull and carry the
hide, with the head and hoofs, before the King, without loss of time.

After he had gone, and while I sat alone in the haunted place, I watched
by the great black mass lying so still and quiet; and, _Nkose_, I
believe I should have felt little surprise had the thing come to life
again, head and all, so great was the awe it had set up among us.  I am
not even sure that I did not once or twice hear the voice of old
Gasitye, and behold his spidery old form shambling among the trees.  The
dawn came at last, however, but before it came Jambula, with a number of
the iron-working slaves.  These were in great delight over the slain
monster who had destroyed so many of them, yet no time did I allow them
to give way to their joy over dancing and such.  It behoved us to return
to the Great Great One with all speed, for on the next night the moon
would be at full.



CHAPTER SEVEN.

THE FAITH OF A KING.

The news of what had been done had already spread fast and far, and
before I reached Maqandi's kraal a great crowd of the iron-workers had
assembled.  These increased more and more, and presently a vast number
of these people had joined in my train, dancing in their joy, and
singing songs of triumph and of praise of myself, who had rid them of a
twofold terror--of destruction by this thing of _tagati_, and of peril
of wholesale death by the assegai when the patience of the King should
become exhausted.  But little attention did I pay to all this, for my
allotted time had nearly expired, and it would be all I could do to
reach Kwa'zingwenya ere it had quite.  So I levied upon Maqandi for a
large body of slaves, and pushed on, travelling night and day, and
taking little or no rest.

No time even had I to visit my own kraal, which was somewhat off the
line of my nearest road.  However, I sent messengers there, and swift
runners to Kwa'zingwenya, that news of my success might reach the King
as early as possible.

But as I travelled on swiftly through the night, whose dawn should see
me laying my trophies at the feet of the Great Great One, my mind was
torn by many misgivings, and many an anxious glance did I send upward to
the heavens.  _The moon was at the full_.

Fair and splendid rose the dawn of that day, and as I came in sight of
our Great Place, and of the people flocking thither--for here, too, the
news had spread, and all were eager to hear about what had been done,
and, if possible, to behold the actual skin and horns of the great
_tagati_ beast--I forgot my fears, and felt proud and light-hearted as
ever when I had accomplished something great.  And thus I stalked into
the great circle, looking neither to right nor left, and seemingly not
hearing the murmurs and exclamations of wonder which broke from all who
beheld the immense horned head borne behind me by the slaves.

"The Great Great One is sleeping, Untuswa," said the commander of the
armed body-guard before the gate of the _isigodhlo_.  "His orders are
that none should awaken him."

"Yet what will he say if such news as I bring be allowed to grow old?
How will that be, Ngoza?"

"_Whau_!  I know not, son of Ntelani," was the answer.  "But I may not
go behind my orders.  There is no safely that way."

Now I liked not this reply.  I noticed, moreover, that the guard before
the _isigodhlo_ was much larger than usual, and in those days, _Nkose_,
anything unusual was likely to foreshadow trouble for somebody.
Further, there was a shortness in the tone of the captain of the guard
which sounded strange as addressed to one of my rank and influence.
There was nothing for it, however, but patience, so I sat down to await
the pleasure of the Great Great One.

As I sat there, taking snuff, I ran my eyes over those present, both
near and far, seemingly with unconcern, but in reality with something of
anxiety.  Many of my own followers could I discern among the throng, and
their women; but among these last was no sign of Lalusini.  Yet this did
not disconcert me, for of late my _inkosikazi_ had rather avoided coming
overmuch within the notice of the Great Great One.

Presently an _inceku_ came out and spoke to the captain of the guard.
Immediately it was proclaimed that the Great Great One was about to
appear; and, preceded by the _izimbonga_, or praisers, bellowing the
royal titles, Umzilikazi came forth and took his seat at the head of the
great circle, where he was wont to sit each morning and discuss matters
of state, or pronounce judgment on offenders.

As soon as the prostrate multitude had made an end of shouting the royal
praises I advanced to the King and made my report, leaving out, however,
my experience of the witchcraft of Gasitye.

"Thou hast done well, Untuswa," he said when I had concluded.  "Now bid
them bring hither that head."

This was done--and as Umzilikazi stood up the better to examine it, even
he murmured in surprise at its gigantic size.  And I, gazing upon the
thing, black and huge, with its glazed eyes and swollen tongue and
shaggy frontlet of hair, remembered the horrible and terrifying aspect
of those vast, pointed horns, tossing and tearing in the glade of the
moonlit forest.

"_Whau_!  It stinks.  Let them take it away," said Umzilikazi at length,
spitting in disgust, as a swarm of flies came buzzing about his face.
"And now, Untuswa, this thing will trouble the land no more?"

"No more, Great Great One."

"Ha!  That is well.  And now by virtue of what _muti_ didst thou triumph
over this evil thing of witchcraft?"

"By the virtue of no _muti_ save that of the spear of the King, O
Elephant," I answered, with a glance backward at where I had deposited
the great assegai, the erewhile royal gift.

I thought the answer seemed to please him, then not; for his expression
changed as though reading into my words a hidden meaning.

"But it has taken long to rid the land of this thing, Untuswa," he said,
looking at me with his head bent sideways, and speaking in a soft tone.

"That is so, Great Great One.  But the thing was both crafty and
fierce."

"Yet not alone didst thou slay it, as my conditions were," he went on,
pointing at me with his short-handled spear.

"Alone indeed did I slay it, Serpent of Wisdom," I answered.

"Now thou liest, son of Ntelani.  What of the slaves who were with
thee?"

"They were but bait for the ghost-bull, Divider of the Sun; and both
were duly slain by it," I replied.  But now I knew my feet were standing
on slippery ground indeed--for never for a long time past had Umzilikazi
spoken to me in that tone, and for a longer time still, in the sight and
hearing of all men.

"And what of thy slave, Jambula?" went on the King.  "Was he not armed?"

"No part did he take in slaying the thing, Father of the Wise.  His part
lay in running away."

"Yet he was armed, and my condition laid down that no armed force should
accompany thee."

"_Au_!  Now I would ask the Great Great One, the leader of the nations
in war, whether one man, and he a slave, constitutes an armed force?"  I
replied, fully aware that whatever was in the King's mind towards me,
lack of courage never yet found favour in that mind.

"Let be, then," he said.  "For that question we will let it rest.  But
say then, son of Ntelani--what of the moon?  That this thing should be
slain before the full of the moon--was not that one of my conditions?
Yet the moon has been full these two nights."

"But the thing was so slain, Black Elephant.  Before the moon was full,
was it slain."

"But it should have been brought here by the full of the moon--the head,
even as now.  Well, well, Untuswa!  It is not always possible to carry
out conditions in their entirety, is it?  Ah, ah! not always possible.
Now go home, thou slayer of ghost-bulls, for it may be that I have even
harder conditions awaiting thee than slaying _tagati_ beasts.  Go!"

I saluted and withdrew, and as I did so, the chief of the _izanusi_ came
up and begged to be allowed to have the trophies of the ghost-bull for
_muti_ purposes.  But Umzilikazi refused shortly, and gave orders that
they should be prepared and preserved until he had chosen how to dispose
them.  And I, leaving the presence as commanded, felt sore and heavy at
heart, for the King's tone of mockery seemed cold and hostile, and to
bear some hidden meaning--one that boded ill to me and mine.

So concerned was I, trying to think out this matter, that I hardly
noticed how few of my own rank joined me to give me news or talk over
what had been done, and of my own followers none at all.  These last
would give me greeting from afar, and hurry onward; yet, by what I had
done, I had saved them all from the death of the assegai.  But it
behoved me not, as a chief of great rank and influence, to show
curiosity, and so, asking questions of no man, I eventually reached my
kraal.

Then as I entered the gate, looking up towards my principal hut, it came
back to me how I had last beheld Lalusini standing there in the setting
sun to see the last of me, on that evening when I set forth on my errand
of dread.  Why was she not there now, waiting to welcome me?  _Hau_!  It
seemed to send a chill through my being--a foreboding of all that was
direful and deathly.  Man of mature age and ripe experience as I was,
even I could hardly restrain a quickening of the step as I paced across
the open circle, returning the greetings of those who hailed my return.

Stooping through the doorway, I entered the hut.  It was empty.

Everything was in its place as I had left it.  But--no Lalusini.

"She has gone about some ordinary business," I thought; "or has come to
welcome me in the path, and we have missed."  But my sinking heart cried
aloud that such thoughts told idle tales.

Stepping forth, I beckoned a young man standing near.

"Where is Mgwali?"  I inquired.

He replied that he thought my brother must have tarried at the Great
Place, for he had seen him there that morning.

"Where is Ncala-cala?"  I then asked.

He replied that the old man, who was the responsible head of the kraal
under me, had been sent for by the King the day before, and had not yet
returned.  I asked him no more questions, but entered the hut of one of
my other wives.

I found Nxope and Fumana squatted together on the ground.  They greeted
me in a manner that struck me as showing great if subdued fear.

"Where is Lalusini?"  I said.

Then indeed was fear upon their countenances.  They looked at each other
as though each expected the other to reply.

"Where is Lalusini?"  I repeated.

"We know not," said Fumana sullenly.

Then my patience gave way.

"Ha!  Ye know not!  Hear me now, ye witches.  I am tired of such as you.
Look at this," holding forth the great assegai, from which I never
parted, save when forced to disarm in the presence of the King.  "Look
well at it and bear in mind I do not speak twice.  This spear has drunk
much blood, but never yet the blood of women.  Fail to answer my next
question and it will begin.  Now.  Where is Lalusini?"

"In truth we know not," screamed Nxope.

I know not how it was, _Nkose_, that in my awful grief and rage that
blade did not shear swiftly through the speaker's heart, even as I had
promised.  I know not how it was, I say, unless it were that something
about the woman--some movement, perhaps--reminded me of Lalusini, but my
hand seemed arrested in the very act of striking.

"Ha!  One more chance," I said.  "Now, quick.  Tell me."

"We will tell you all, lord," yelled Fumana, more quick-witted than the
other.  "The third night after you left she disappeared.  No one saw her
go; nor has she ever returned."

"Seven nights ago that would be; and she has never returned?"

"Never, lord."

"And that is all we know about it," whimpered Nxope, still in fear for
her life.

But she need not have been.  My anger against them was past now, for I
could see they had told me all they knew, and that was--nothing.
Besides, of them I had no further thought.  I sat down on the floor of
the hut and thought.  The third night after I left.  Ha!  The vision in
Gasitye's cavern!  Had I not seen Lalusini's face among the others--
among the faces of the dead--for such were all the others?  She, too,
had passed into the Great Unknown.

Now my thoughts at once flew off to the King.  I saw his hand in this
matter.  Umzilikazi had broken faith with me.  He had seized the
opportunity of my absence to put my sorceress-wife to death, and that
secretly and in the dead of night.  Ha!  I saw it all now.  All that had
been said that morning connected him with this.  Had he not repeatedly
taxed me with not carrying out the conditions of my challenge, so as to
justify his own act of treachery?  And then his words, uttered in soft,
mocking tones: "Well, well, Untuswa.  It is not always possible to carry
out conditions in their entirety, is it?  Ah, ah! not always possible,"
That pointed to some breach on his part of his own conditions.  And
again: "I have even harder conditions awaiting thee than the slaying of
_tagati_ beasts."  It was all as clear now as the noonday sun.  Yet why
should he thus have tried to excuse what he had done?  At a nod from
him--one word--I had gone to join the others whose faces I had seen, dim
and horrible, in the wizard cave.  And then I knew that if the son of
Matyobane, founder and first King of the Amandebeli nation, had never
made a mistake in his life, he had made one when he failed to give that
nod, to utter that word; for, so sure as he had ordered the death of
Lalusini, so sure would a new king reign over the Amandebeli, and that
speedily.

I have already told you, _Nkose_, that the love which I felt for
Lalusini was after the manner of the love which white people bear for
their women; and, indeed, I think but few, even, of them.  Now, as I sat
there, realising that never again should I behold my stately and
beautiful wife, never again hear the tones of her voice--always soft
with love for me--the thoughts that hunted each other through my mind
were many and passing strange.  In truth, I was bewitched.  All that had
constituted the joy of living was as nothing now--my rank and influence,
my ambitions, the fierce joy of battle, the thunder of the war-march, of
rank upon rank of the splendid warriors I commanded--all this was as
nothing.  And at this moment there crossed my mind the thought of that
priest-magician, the white man whom we found offering sacrifice in the
forest--of whom I told you in a former story--and who dwelt with us
long.  I thought of his teaching and his mysteries, and of the God of
Peace of whom he taught, and how that, if he were here now, I would
gladly put myself through his strange water-rite, and participate in his
mysterious sacrifices, so that I might once more be reunited to Lalusini
in another world; for such seemed to me to have been his teaching--at
least, so as I remembered it.  But he, too, was dead; and, though I
might sacrifice oxen at his grave, I doubted whether his voice even then
would tell me what to do, for I remembered he liked not such sacrifices.
Besides, he had always taught that it was not lawful to kill any man,
save in defence of our lives or nation; and if there was one thing as
firmly rooted in my mind then, _Nkose_, as the Intaba Zungweni yonder is
rooted to the plain, it was that the son of Matyobane should himself
travel the road of death.  I cared not what fate should be mine
therefor; nor, indeed, that my whole kraal--wives, children, relatives,
followers--should die the death of the spear or the stake; I myself
would slay the King with my own hand.  And then it seemed that waves of
blood were rolling red around my brain.  I saw myself King--I saw all
those of Umzilikazi's House led forth to die--I saw the surface of the
Pool of Death scarlet with the blood of all who, in the farthest degree,
boasted a single drop of the blood of Matyobane, till even the
alligators, surfeited, refused to devour any more.  _Haul_ I would slay.
_Haul_ I would invent new tortures for every man, woman, and child of
the now reigning House; I would execute such a vengeance that the tale
of it should be handed down as long as the tongue of the Zulu was spoken
in the world.

I know not, _Nkose_, what change this cloud of blood and flame rolling
around my brain must have produced in my countenance, but I awoke from
my thoughts to find Nxope and Fumana staring at me as though at a thing
of horror.  Their eyes were starting from their heads, their mouths were
open, they seemed turned to stone, as though they were staring into the
very jaws of the most terrible form of death.  Then I remembered.  If I
would render my vengeance complete, I must be wary; silent and crafty as
the leopard when marking down his prey.  The strength of the warrior,
the craft of the councillor, the coolness and self-control of both--such
must be the role of every moment, waking or sleeping, of life.

"I think I have travelled too fast and too far, and am tired," I said in
an ordinary and even tone; yet, even as it was, so frightened were those
two women that they half leapt at the sound of it.  "You two," pointing
at them with my spear, "attend now.  It is not good to talk too much.
The tongue that wags too much must be cut out with this"--fingering the
edge of the blade--"or the throat is less trouble to cut.  Bear that in
mind, for I know not how ye escaped with your lives but a short while
ago."

They were quick in their declarations of silence and careful utterance,
and I knew I had sufficiently frightened them.  And thus I left them.



CHAPTER EIGHT.

GEGESA'S TALE.

For several days I went about as usual, to the eyes of men showing no
difference in my converse and behaviour.  At first all would watch me
furtively, as though to observe what effect my loss would have on me, if
any; but this soon ceased as they saw no difference, and indeed this was
not strange, for it is not our custom to allow ourselves to be affected
by the loss of a woman, more or less.  There were plenty more women in
the nation, and I, Untuswa, the second commander of the King's hosts,
could take as many wives as I chose.  The King had given me this
particular wife, and if he chose to take her from me, openly or
secretly, who might run his will against the will of the Great Great
One, at whose word we held our lives?

So men looked at it, but I--well, I looked at it from another point of
view.  That the King's hand moved behind the matter I could see by the
uniform silence with which it was treated, nor could I even overhear so
much as the "darkest" of talking among any of the people.  But I was
awaiting my time, and to allay suspicion I took a new wife.  She was
young and good-tempered, and was a daughter of Xulawayo, an induna of
rank, and a commander of high standing in the army, by reason of which
he demanded much cattle in _lobola_ for her, all of which I paid him
without objection.  This astonished him greatly, nor could he sleep for
three nights for wishing he had demanded more.  But I had an object in
view, which was to bind so influential a leader as Xulawayo more closely
to me against the time for striking my blow.

Now of this I never lost sight for a moment.  Carefully I sounded my own
followers, and lost no opportunity of rendering myself popular among the
army at large.  Yet the game was a terribly risky one, and I felt as a
man might who attempts to walk on a ridge of rock no wider than an
assegai blade, with the depth of a whole mountain on either side.  But
the game was worth the risk, for I was playing for a throne and for
revenge.

Now and again the King would rally me.

"Taking new wives at last, Untuswa?" he would say.  "_Whau_! but you
have been long content with old ones.  How often have I told you that
women are like a bowl of _tywala_: delightful and stimulating when
fresh; but, when stale, sour and injurious, and the sooner thrown away
the better."

And I would laugh pleasantly at the royal wit, and send _lobola_ for yet
another girl, this one, as before, the daughter of an influential
fighting induna; but, for all that, the loss of Lalusini was none the
less present in my mind, and the desire for my projected vengeance grew,
the longer that vengeance was delayed.

Two things, however, I observed, and these did not look well for my
plot.  One was that never now would Umzilikazi commune with me alone as
in the old friendly manner of former days; the other that he never
appeared without a strong body-guard in attendance, fully armed, and
composed of young warriors chosen from houses whose fidelity to the
House of Matyobane was beyond suspicion, they being themselves of that
House.  But my time was coming, and that I knew, for the very
desperation and assurance of a man who values not his own life.

There were times when, looking upon the _muti_ bag--Lalusini's last gift
to me, which I ever wore--I felt moved to open it.  But her words were
explicit.  It was only to be opened in the very last extremity, and such
extremity I felt had not yet been reached.  So I forebore.

And now, _Nkose_, there befell one of those occurrences which will
befall even the wisest and coolest and most experienced of any of us
when least we look for it, which are destined to alter all our most
carefully laid plans, for there is ever some moment in life when the
wisest and most carefully thinking man is no better than a fool.  And
this is how it came about.

One evening I was walking back, along the river bank, to my kraal,
alone--thinking, as ever, upon my now fast ripening scheme--when I heard
my name called out in a quavering croak.  Turning, I beheld the
shrivelled figure of an old crone, perched upon a point of rock
overhanging a long deep reach.  Beside her was a bundle of sticks she
had been gathering.

"Give me snuff, Untuswa, O Great Fighter," she cried, stretching out a
bony claw.  "Give me snuff from that pretty box stuck in your ear, for I
have none."

I stepped aside, and, taking the horn tube from the lobe of my ear,
poured half its contents into her skinny old hand, and as I did so I
recognised in the old witch one who had an evil repute among us for
_Umtagati_; indeed, it was reported that she had been "smelt out" and
killed in the time of Tshaka, but had somehow managed to come to life
again, and had not been interfered with since because of our custom
under which no one can be killed twice.

She was very, very old--so old that beyond a wisp or two of white wool
her scalp was entirely bald.  Her limbs were mere bits of stick, to
which even her few rags of clothing would hardly cling.  Looking at her
squatting there, I thought she would make an exact mate for old Gasitye,
as I had seen him in the _tagati_ cave, squatting in like fashion; and I
must have laughed at the thought, for she said, with some show of fire:

"Laugh, Untuswa, laugh, I am old and shrivelled, am I not?  But that is
a complaint you will never suffer from.  Oh, no!  Oh, no!"

"What mean you, mother?"  I said, pausing as I was about to continue on
my way, for there was that in her words which fitted not well in with my
thoughts just then.  "I am a fighting man, and such may reasonably not
live to grow old."

"Ah, ah!  A fighting man.  Thou art more.  He who would sit in the seat
of the mighty is hardly likely to die of old age," she answered slowly,
poking her head forward with a meaning chuckle.

"Now," I thought, "this old witch knows too much.  I will just drop her
over into the river and make _her_ safe."

But before I could do so, she again croaked out:

"What will you give to know something, Untuswa?  What will you give me
if I tell you that which you would most like to learn?"

The blood seemed to stand still within me at the words.  "That which I
would most like to learn"--the secret of Lalusini's disappearance, of
course.  I strove to restrain all semblance of anxiety, but the dim eyes
of the old hag seemed to pierce my thoughts through and through.

"If it is indeed something I would like to learn, mother, then will I
give anything--not too great--you may choose to ask.  But, beware of
fooling me with old women's tales."

"Ha, ha!  And the fate of the Daughter of the Great--is that an old
woman's tale?"

"Tell me of that, if you know it, mother," I said.

"Ah, ah!  If I know it.  See now, Untuswa, I am old--so old that I am as
they of another world.  And the other world moves about at night--and
I--often I steal out at night and talk with those of another world."

I murmured assent, and she went on.

"See yon pool, Untuswa?" pointing up the river where the alligators
dwelt, to whom were cast those whom the King had doomed to die.  "Often,
at night, I go out and sit over that pool that I may talk with the
ghosts of them who have died there; and they come creeping up, those
ghosts of dead men, all dripping and bloody, as though fresh from the
alligators' jaws.  Ha! and we have such talks, I, old Gegesa, and those
ghosts of dead men--yes, and of women, too, Untuswa--of women, too;" and
she paused with a shrill cackle, and leered at me.  "There was thy
former _inkosikazi_, Nangeza, she who died there, and she came up and
talked with me, saying she should soon have fitting company in the land
of ghosts, for it was not healthy to be the _inkosikazi_ of Untuswa.
And just then I heard steps--the footsteps of men--although it was
night, and the neighbourhood of the pool was one of fear and of death.
So I hid myself, Untuswa--crept away behind a stone which the moon threw
into a black shadow, and this is what I saw.  Four great, fierce looking
men came down to the brink of the rock which overhangs the pool, and in
their midst was a woman--"

"A woman!"  I echoed, staring at her.

"_Eh-e_! a woman--tall and shapely and beautiful, _as a daughter of the
Great_."

"What then?"

I hissed the words rather than uttered them.  Again that blood-wave
surged around my brain.  I knew what was coming--knew the worst.

"What then?  This," went on the hag.  "They led her to the brink of the
pool, and were about to throw her in.  But she spoke, and her voice was
firm and sweet, as the wind's whisper.  `Lay not hands on me,' she said,
`for I come of the greatest the world ever saw.'  Then they refrained,
and the foremost said, `Go in thyself, then, Daughter of the Great, for
it is the word of the King.  It is our lives or thine.'  Then she looked
for one moment in front of her, the moon full on her face, and dropped
quietly over.  And I heard the splash and the rush through the water, as
the alligators seized their meat, even as I have often heard it.  But
while the moon was on her face, I knew her."

"Who was she?"  I whispered.

"Lalusini, the daughter of that Great One, the founder of all nations.
Thine _inkosikazi_, Untuswa."

"And the men, who were they?"

"They were chief among the King's slayers."

"Their names?  Did you not know them, Gegesa?"

"Did I not know them?  Ah, ah! who is there I do not know?"  And she
told me the names of all four, and I laid them up in my memory; for I
thought how I would have those slayers let down by thongs over the edge
of the rock so that the alligators might eat them piece by piece--might
crunch off first a foot, then a leg, and so on, as they dangled there.
Oh, what vengeance should be mine!

"But how do I know this is true, thou witch?"  I said.  "How can I tell
it is not all a made-up story?"

"What have I to gain by making it up?  Have I not rather to gain by not
telling it?  Go home, Untuswa, and be happy with your new wives; they
are young and bright-eyed, and round, as I was once.  _Yau_!  Rest
content now you know Lalusini can never return.  A returning
_inkosikazi_ is not always welcome; ha, ha!"

I stood gazing at her in silence, and the old hag went on.

"Yet it is better to lose an _inkosikazi_, if by that loss you sit in
the seat of a King!  Ah, ah!  Untuswa; there will be food for the
alligators then."

"Meanwhile they shall have some now.  You have lived too long, Gegesa,
_and you know too much_.  I trust not that croaking old tongue.  This is
the price I pay for thy news--the price it is worth."

So saying, I picked her up by her ragged old blanket where it was
knotted round her, and before she had time to utter a cry, tossed her
clean over the brink of the rock.  I heard the splash in the water
beneath, and without troubling to look over, I turned away.

With the blood-wave surging around my brain, I strode quickly onward.
Now the mystery of Lalusini's disappearance was a mystery no more.  Any
last hope I might have clung to that she might one day reappear was
shattered.  She had died as my first _inkosikazi_ had died, a death of
horror and of blood.  _Whau_! but other blood should flow--should flow
in rivers--before many days had gone by.  When the King had rid me of
Nangeza I had been well pleased, for her pestilent tongue and evil
temper had gone far towards rendering life a weariness; but I had lived
even longer with Lalusini than with Nangeza, but so far from doing aught
that should cause my love for her to decrease, Lalusini had taken care
that it should grow instead.

By the time I reached my kraal, night had fallen.  Entering my large
hut, I called for Jambula the slave who had been with me in the slaying
of the ghost-bull.  By birth Jambula was of the Amaxosa, a numerous and
warlike people whose land is to the southward, as you know, _Nkose_.
When a young man his family had been "eaten up" by order of its chief;
and he, narrowly escaping with is life, had at last found refuge with a
tribe of Basuti, among whom we had captured him.  And now I knew that if
there was one man upon whose fidelity I could entirely reckon, that man
was Jambula.

Having made sure that none could overhear us, to him now I opened the
plot.  His face lighted up with joy as he listened.

"To-morrow, by this time, we shall both be ghosts in the shadow world,
or I sit in the seat of Umzilikazi, and you among the _izinduna_ of this
nation.  How like you that, Jambula?"

"If you are dead, my father, I too am dead," he answered.  "Not too
soon, either, is it to strike, for my eyes and ears have not been closed
in these days, nor have those of the Great Great One.  It is his life or
ours.  The time when this place shall awaken hemmed in by the
spear-points of the slayers is but a question of a few nights more or
less."

I believed this to be true, but even if it were not so it would have
made but little difference.  The tale told me by old Gegesa had so
inflamed my blood that I could wait no longer.  Vengeance, now at once--
now, before it escaped me.  I could wait no more.

A little while longer did Jambula and I whisper together.  Then softly
and silently we stole forth into the night.



CHAPTER NINE.

"TO SLAY THEE, SON OF MATYOBANE."

The great kraal, Kwa'zingwenya, slept.  All was dark and still as we
drew near it, Jambula and I.  We could make out dimly in the starlight
the immense circle of domed huts within their ringed fences, but not so
much as the spark of a distant fire showed that any within were awake.
Treading cautiously, we took our way round to the upper end of the great
circle.

At every gate bodies of armed guards were posted, yet in the darkness
two men, stealthy, silent as serpents, glided by unnoticed--no dog even
was roused to give warning of their approach.  Two men, alone.  Success,
and on the morrow the nation would hail a new king.  Failure, and the
lives of these two, and of all their kith and kindred, would be taken
mercilessly.

Having reached our point we set to work.  Twig by twig, thorn by thorn,
we began to breach the thick prickly fence; long and silently we worked
until the hole was large enough for the body of a man to creep through.
But it was done at last, and I stood within the _isigodhlo_.

Jambula was to remain outside.  If all went well, that is, if he saw or
heard nothing the night through, he was to enter himself shortly before
dawn, and having stopped up the hole from the inside, was to await my
orders.  If I failed--and that he would not be long in learning--he was
to return at full speed to my kraal, and warn the people there to flee
at once for their very lives--to flee both fast and far--for it would
not be long before the slayers were on their track.

Were my movements actuated by ambition alone, _Nkose_, then indeed my
heart might have begun to fail me.  Here was I, in the dead of night,
all unbidden, within the sacred precincts of the _isigodhlo_.  To be
found there was death--were I the highest in the nation--death by
impalement, or some other form of lingering torment.  But now the
thoughts engendered by such knowledge availed not to daunt me.  The
spirit of Lalusini, agonised and bloody, rose ever before my eyes,
beckoning me onward, and my one thought was how soon I might bury my
spear in the heart of her slayer.

But for my spear, here before me, was work already.  From round one of
the huts a man appeared, so suddenly as to collide with me in the
darkness, had I not quickly stepped aside.  Immediately I struck--and
struck home.  The broad blade had cleft his heart, and breathing only a
soft sigh he sank motionless--being stone dead.  I bent over his face,
and recognised one of the _izinceku_, or body-servants of the King.  Of
these I knew there were two on watch at night.  I had yet to reckon with
the other.

Now I stood motionless, and held my breath, listening.  I was among the
huts of the royal women, and there, but twenty paces distant, was that
of the King.  For arms, I had but a single broad-bladed assegai, the
gift of Umzilikazi himself, as I have told you, _Nkose_, in a former
tale; not even a shield, for such would but encumber me if it came to a
close hand-to-hand struggle.  My own craft and quickness were to be as a
shield.

Two steps at a time, treading softer than any cat, I gained the outside
of the large hut.  Peering round I saw what I expected.  Right across
the door lay the body of a man.  It was the other _inceku_.

He was sleeping.  I could hear his soft regular breathing.  But before I
could enter that door he must exchange his sleep for the sleep of death.

He was lying on his back, his face turned upward to the stars, his body
filling almost the whole width between the outside screen and the door
itself.  To reach him I could hardly hope without some slight sound of a
scuffle.  I flattened myself on the ground, and so crept noiselessly
along his side.

_Whau_! but again the blade went home.  Right under the fifth rib it
glided, and the red blood flowed forth warm upon my hand.  This one,
too, died without a struggle.

Pausing again, I listened.  All was still inside the hut.  I began to
cut the thong fastenings of the wicker door.  What if Umzilikazi,
experienced warrior as he was, awakened by the small amount of noise I
had caused, were standing ready for me, waiting in the darkness with
assegai uplifted to plunge the broad blade in between my shoulders as I
crept in through the low doorway.  Then the thought came to me that by
reason of his very security, hemmed around with guards, the sleep of the
King would be sound and unsuspicious.  The fastenings were now cut, and
grasping the wicker door firmly, I let it down noiselessly upon the
floor of the hut.

There was another screen inside which I had forgotten.  Peering around
this I saw that the interior was not in darkness.  The smouldering
embers of a fire glowed in the hollow in the centre of the floor, and by
its indistinct light I could make out the King, asleep among a pile of
blankets against the thatch wall.

But in a moment he started from his sleep and sat upright.

"Ha!  Who is that?" he said.  Then, recognising me, he cried furiously,
"Ha, Untuswa!  Thou dog, daring to invade my privacy.  Are we threatened
from without, or why art thou here?"

"_Thou_ art threatened from within," I answered jeeringly.  "I have come
to slay thee, son of Matyobane."  And I sprang upon him.

But not so easily was my purpose of vengeance to be fulfilled.
Umzilikazi, the warrior and leader of warriors while I was yet a boy,
the founder and strong ruler of a new nation, was not so easily to be
overcome, although surprised in the midst of sleep.  Avoiding the stroke
I aimed at him with my assegai, he seized my right wrist and held it in
a grasp of iron, and for a moment thus in the half darkness we grappled.
Indeed, I know not why he refrained from shouting aloud for assistance,
knowing my bodily strength and prowess as a fighter, unless it were that
his old warrior instincts moved him to add to the terror of his name by
overthrowing so formidable a foe in single strife.  And then it was too
late, for with my left hand I seized his throat and gripped it until his
very eyes protruded, choking back any sound he might then fain have
uttered.

"Thy life shall pay for thy breach of faith with me," I snarled.  "Ha,
ha!  Where is Lalusini?"  And my grasp on his throat tightened.

But then I saw another form rise from the heap of blankets and disappear
swiftly through the door of the hut.  I had not reckoned on the presence
of any of the King's wives; and I knew that I was lost, even before I
heard the loud, shrill cry for help that rang out upon the night.

At that moment the sides of the doorway were nearly rent asunder, as the
armed guard swarmed in.  But, as this happened, Umzilikazi's grasp upon
my wrists relaxed, and he fell heavily to the ground.  At the same time
a strange, sweet odour filled the air, half stupefying me.

"Slay him, the traitorous dog!"  I cried, imitating, as well as I knew
how, the voice of the King.  "Slay him where he lies."

In another moment half a dozen spears would have transfixed the
prostrate form, but just then, either by chance or design, one of the
armed guard kicked the red embers into a momentary glow.  The light fell
full upon the face of Umzilikazi.

"_Whau_!" cried the guards, leaping in alarm, their assegais arrested in
mid air.  "It is the King!"

Then I saw that my plot had failed.  Swift--swift as the lightning
flash--I stabbed the warrior nearest the door, and, gliding through the
latter, but a very few steps brought me to the thorn fence.  No time had
I to seek the hole by which I had entered.  Gathering my legs under me I
leaped.  Right over the high stockade I flew like a buck, and once on
the further side, I ran--ran as I had never ran in my younger days when
I was the King's messenger.

And as I ran, keeping on fast and far throughout the night, I noticed
that there was no hubbub in the great kraal behind.  This meant that I
had certainly failed to kill the King.  But what had made him drop thus
suddenly?  Whatever it was it had been the saving of my own life, for
only to the momentary diversion caused by my imitating Umzilikazi's tone
did I owe it that half a dozen blades had not transfixed me then and
there.  And now I noticed that the same strange, sweet, stupefying
odour, though much fainter, was with me as I ran.  Instinctively I
clutched the _muti_ bag hanging to my neck.  _Whau_!  It was open.  Half
of it had been torn away, but from what was left proceeded the odour.
Now I saw.  Now all stood clear.  The bag had contained some stupefying
scent.  In our struggle it had been torn open, and Umzilikazi's face
coming against it he had fallen senseless.  He was in my hands.
Lalusini's death would have been avenged, and I on the morrow would have
proclaimed myself King, and supported my position by force of arms if
need be; whereas now I was a fugitive, without home or nation.
Umzilikazi still lived, and would pursue me with untiring and relentless
purpose; and, worse than all, Lalusini was unavenged.

_Still_ unavenged, should I not have said? for as I fled a new thought
came into my mind.  One plan of vengeance had failed, another might not;
and, _Nkose_, if you are thinking, as I see you are, what kind of
vengeance a nationless fugitive, fleeing for his very life, could hope
to compass against a mighty king sitting at the head of a warrior
nation, I can only answer that it was as a nationless fugitive I could
best hope to compass that vengeance, as you will see.  Anyhow, though my
scheme had failed, Lalusini's _muti_ had availed to save my life--that,
too in the direst extremity.  For what purpose, then, had my life been
saved, but to carry out that scheme of vengeance by some other means?

When the dawn broke, I had already placed a great distance between
myself and Kwa'zingwenya, and now the most perilous part of my flight
began.  The kraals of our own people were scattered about the land, and
did any inhabiting these catch so much as a glimpse of me, the pursuers
already on my track would not be long in finding me.  I dared not lie
hidden during the day, for, long as it really was, the distance between
myself and Kwa'zingwenya was far too short.  Well I knew Umzilikazi
would cover the land with searching parties, and that many leaders of
these would pay with their lives for failure to discover me.  No more
deadly crime had been committed since our nation was a nation.  I had
offered violence to the King's person; had attempted the life of the
Great Great One, and only by the merest accident had foiled to take it.
The offence of the conspiration of Ncwelo's Pool was an easily
pardonable one compared with mine.

Carefully I travelled throughout the day.  I could see the kraals of our
people both near and far, and now and then parties of people themselves,
but of the pursuers nothing as yet.  Fortunately the ground was broken
and bushy, and I was able to avoid observation.  For arms I had but one
assegai, no blanket to cover me from the night chills, and no food.

You will be wondering, _Nkose_, how it was that so experienced a
campaigner as myself should have made no sort of preparation for this
flight by storing provisions and necessaries in some place of
concealment where I could readily take them up.  But the reason lies in
the fact that flight had not come into my plan at all.  When I had
started in upon it my desperate enterprise offered two alternatives--
success or death--in the attempt.  That a third alternative--flight--
might be open to me I had never for a moment contemplated; wherefore,
here I was in very evil case.

I managed to pluck some ears of green corn from a garden unperceived,
and this sustained me as I devoured it; for in those days we could live
for a long time on very little food, and but little rest.  By the
following evening I had gained the foot of the mountain range called
_Inkume_, somewhat to the eastward of the Place of the Three Rifts,
where our great battle was fought and won--won for us chiefly by the
magic of Lalusini.

"Ah, ah!"  I growled to myself, shaking my assegai in the direction
whence I had come.  "This nation has doomed itself in taking the life of
her through whom its own life has been preserved."

Now just as the sun touched the rim of the western world, his last gleam
caused something to flash and shine.  Ha!  The glint of spears!  _I_
ought to know it.  And in the clear light that succeeded I could make
out a considerable body of armed men.

They were yet a great way off, but were coming towards me, not as though
straight from Kwa'zingwenya, but by a roundabout way.  A search party,
of course.  And now I thought gladly how I had been seen by none--though
of this I could not make altogether certain.  But I would not linger
here.  Darkness fell and the night was starry and still.  Up and up,
higher and higher I climbed, intending to place the whole mountain range
between me and the Amandebeli nation by sunrise; but I was somewhat
weary, and the ascent was rough and very steep.  As I drew near the
summit the night wind blew chill, singing through the long grass like
the wailings of countless ghosts, and strange cries and howlings would
float up from the mountain sides.  But nothing cared I for ghosts now;
my chief thought was to avoid falling over cliffs and into chasms.

But when I had reached the summit of the range, as I thought, the stars
grew dim, and, in a moment more, were hidden altogether.  A white mist
was creeping up from the further side, veiling everything.  This was
bad, for the most experienced traveller is as a little child in a thick
mountain mist; and it was quite as likely as not that by continuing to
travel I might turn round unknowingly and thus walk straight back upon
the spears of those who came after.  No!  I must halt until it became
clear again; and, at any rate, if I were delayed, the same would hold
good of my pursuers, unless, indeed, the northern side of the mountains
remained clear.  This would give them such a long start that they would
soon come up with me, in which case--goodnight!

It was time I decided to halt, _Nkose_.  A puff of cold air coming
_upward_ warned me to pause in the act of making a step.  The swirl and
movement of the air lightened the thickness a little.  And lo!  I was
standing on the very brink of a black chasm.

Its depth I could not estimate, but it looked bad.  I was not
unacquainted with these mountains, and I knew there were clefts which
seemed to go down into the very heart of the world.  But I saw something
else.  Away on the one hand rose a great rock, and around it, along the
lip of the chasm, a narrow path seemed to run.

Now a new thought struck me.  This might lead to one of the cave
dwellings of those old tribes who long ages ago had inhabited those
mountains.  If so, no better hiding-place could I find, and immediately
I started to make my way along the ledge path.

_Whau, Nkose_, I like not to recall that dread journey.  That way, at
first only broad enough for one man to travel, soon narrowed until a
monkey could hardly have found foothold on it.  Before me a great tongue
of slippery rock face against which, and with arms extended, I had to
flatten myself; behind, the unknown depths of that awful chasm.  It
seemed as though ghosts and witches sung in my ears in the dank breaths
of the white mist, as though in the fitful puffs of the night wind hands
were stretched forth to claw me down.  Then, fortunately, the projecting
rock tongue ended, and lo!  I had gained a flat surface about twice the
length of a man.  This sloped inward, a narrowing tunnel, with a strange
sudden twist just before it ended; and now my heart leaped within me,
for no better hiding-place could I have lighted upon.  Chilled, and wet,
and weary, I crept into the narrowest end of the hole, and hardly had I
lain me down than I fell into a deep, sound slumber.

When I awoke, it seemed that dawn had already begun to lighten the
world, for I could make out the rock-walls of my sleeping place.  Well,
I would see, at any rate, what sort of hiding this place promised to
afford.  I crept to where the cave widened sufficiently to allow me to
stand upright, and then, as I turned the corner, amazement was my
portion, and a growl escaped me, which boded ill for him who had caused
it, for I had run right against the body of a man.

He grappled with me in a moment, seizing my wrist before I could bury my
assegai in his body, and speaking quickly and eagerly.  We were
perilously near the edge of the chasm, for in my advance I had borne him
backward.  Then, as suddenly, my grasp of him relaxed, and his of me;
for, in the fast lightening dimness of dawn, I recognised the face of my
faithful slave, Jambula, the Xosa.



CHAPTER TEN.

THE FAITH OF A SLAVE.

"Greeting, my father," he exclaimed, when we had stared at each other
for a moment in silence.  "_Au_! but it is well that none of those who
come on behind me were in my place now."

"Who come on behind thee?  What meanest thou, fool, leading those who
pursue thee to my hiding-place?"

"Nay, father; I came to warn thee, for this place is known to them, and
from one point yonder"--and he pointed upward and across the chasm--"it
can be seen into.  Then they will surround it by day and by night, for
none will venture in by so narrow a way as this, and the choice before
us will be a leap into yon depth, or death by hunger and thirst, or on
the stake of impalement, which is even now reared outside the King's
Great Place."

I looked at Jambula somewhat suspiciously, for a thought had come into
my mind: What if he were meaning to betray me?  What if he had been
offered life, and even honour, to decoy me forth, so that my pursuers
might pounce upon me, with the alternative of death in torments should
he fail?  Who could be trusted?  On whose faith could one set entire
belief?

"Let us go hence, my father, and that immediately," he said, "for we
must find a safer refuge than this.  The mist is still upon the
mountains, but at any moment it may roll back.  Here is food that will
last us some little time."

He picked up a bundle which lay on the ground.  It contained a quantity
of grain, stamped and prepared as for _amasi_.  For arms he had a broad
assegai and three or four casting ones, and a great short-handled
knob-stick, which he had brought especially for me, when he should find
me.

Whatever my suspicions, it was clear I could not remain in that place
for ever.  Jambula leading the way, we retraced the perilous cliff path,
and stood outside upon the mountain once more.  At first I kept a sharp
look-out, but soon my suspicions were entirely lulled, and I was able to
appreciate the fidelity of my slave, who had sought me out with the
resolve to share my peril in the day of my downfall and flight.

We kept on along the summit of the mountain range in complete silence,
for a man's voice travels far in those quiet solitudes.  Then, as the
sun rose, the mist rolled higher and higher up the slope, and there on
the further side lay the open country.

It was flat, or gently rolling, and now the dew lay upon it like the
sunlight on the points of the waves of the sea.  Here and there, like
moving dots, we could see herds of game browsing, and the tall necks of
giraffes stalking among the flat tops of the mimosas.  It was a fair and
gladsome sight, _Nkose_, and for us who had to traverse it, promised, at
any rate, no scarcity of food.

But just then our eyes lighted upon that which was by no means a
gladsome sight--and this was a moving body of armed men.  They had
evidently come through the mountains by the Place of the Three Rifts,
and were now moving along the base in such wise that did we descend from
where we were now we should walk right into the midst of them.  We could
make out nearly a hundred of them.  Well for us was it that the mist
lifted when it did.

This was not the _impi_ I had seen the night before.  Jambula said that
numbered half the strength of this.  Our chances began to look small.
We were between two search parties; and, for all we knew, a third might
be sweeping along the summit of the range.

As we lay carefully concealed, watching the movements of this _impi_, we
took counsel, Jambula and I.  There would be look-outs posted at some
point on the mountains, and anyone moving over the flat, open country
beyond could not escape observation.  We must wait until night--that was
certain.

We watched the _impi_ in front of us, and presently saw it halt.  It was
signalling to someone above and behind it.  Ha!  Just as we thought.
Another search party was coming along the summit.

We could see it now, but it was still a long way off.  We were on higher
ground, amid rocks and broken boulders.  We made out about three score
of men.

Our eminence was a small peak rising but a trifling height from the
summit of the range.  Should they pass without searching this we were
safe, for, crouching behind the rocks, none could see us from but a
short way off.  Should they search, why, then, we must die fighting, for
neither of us had any mind to writhe upon the stake of impalement.

We lay behind the rocks and gripped our weapons, for it was now too late
to fly.  On they came, till nearly abreast of our position.  Then they
halted, looking upward.  Would they come?

Now we could just catch what the leader was saying--

"There is no hiding-place there, and we have travelled fast and far.
And see.  Yonder buck, with her fawn, would not be feeding there so
peacefully were any man near.  No!  We had better hurry on."

Then we saw a new sight, and one for which we were entirely unprepared.
Quite close to us, peacefully and unconcernedly, was grazing a buck, of
the kind you white people call "pheebok," and beside her a little fawn,
skipping and whisking its white tail as it gazed open-eyed at the
_impi_.  The other men seemed to agree with what their leader had said.
They looked towards our hiding-place, then at the bucks, then they
passed on their way.

For long we lay, not daring to move, scarcely to breathe.  But we saw no
more of the searchers, and at last the sun went down, and the grey of
evening blotted out the world.

"A vow, Jambula," I whispered, as we travelled down the mountain side in
the darkness.  "Never again--no, not even if starving, will I slay a
buck of that species--male or female, young or old--for it seems that
our snakes have taken that form to watch over us," And Jambula assented.

Now as we travelled onward Jambula told me of much that had happened
since my flight.  Knowing by the uproar within the _isigodhlo_ that my
plan had failed, he was about to start and warn my kraal according to my
orders, when he saw me leap the fence and disappear into the darkness.
He, like myself, had not reckoned on the chance of my escape, and his
first impulse had been to follow me.  But he remembered my orders, and,
running at full speed, he warned my people and saw them all take flight
before following on my track.  Not too soon, either, had they done so,
for, looking back as he fled, he had seen from far the smoke from my
blazing kraals mounting to the heavens, which proved that the slayers
had been there.  He thought, and indeed so did I, that there was little
probability of my people eventually escaping; but at any rate, they had
a warning and a start, which was something.

That night we got down the mountain side without any trouble, and by
dawn were far out over the open country.  Yet not for a moment did we
relax our caution.  But the land was covered with patches and clumps of
forest, some large, some small, and by keeping within these we could
travel in concealment.  We were able, moreover, to kill game, and this
we did but sparingly, immediately burying what we did not need lest the
cloud of vultures that would gather overhead should mark our locality to
those who came after.

Now Jambula, as we began to hunt, made mock of our Zulu casting-spears.
The broad-headed _umkonto_--ah, that, he said, was good for its own
purpose; but the _umgcula_, or casting-spear, with its stiff, awkward
handle terminating in a knob, was a poor sort of weapon for killing game
at any distance, or with any accuracy of aim.  So he cut staves and
fashioned long slender hafts running to a point, as the Amaxosa have
their spear-hafts, and to these he bound the lighter blades he had with
him, and--_Whau_! with these he could slay a buck half as far again as I
could with our own.

Thus we journeyed on from day to day, seeing no man, for that belt of
country to the south had been well cleared by our people and was kept as
a hunting-ground.  Not yet, either, had I unfolded to Jambula the aim of
our wanderings.

We had come to a large wide river, and having crossed it, we lay by for
a day or two on the further side, intending, if we could, to slay a
buffalo and make shields of its hide, for we had come away without our
shields.  This river-bank was high and broken up into great rifts with
earthen sides all filled and covered with trees and creepers.  It was a
place where a man might lie concealed for ever, and escape discovery
even though a thousand were in quest of him, and it suited our purpose
well.

It happened that on the second morning after our arrival here, Jambula
had gone forth early to spy out where buffalo might be found; but I,
feeling weary, elected to rest throughout the heat of the day.  When I
awoke the sun was already high, and again I slept.  On awaking the
second time the sun was on the decline.  Rising, I went forth, but of
Jambula there was no sign.

We had chosen for our hiding-place a crack in the ground that branched
sideways from one of the great rifts of which I have made mention, and
this was roofed in with trees as the roof of a hut.  Then I heard that
which brought me to an attitude of intense listening.  It was the deep
murmur of voices, and it seemed to come from the river-bed.

Here the trees and bush grew thick to a cliff of earth about six times
the height of a man, over which they hung in a thick tangle.  Quickly I
gained this point, and peering through, this is what I saw:

Right underneath was a stony space, between the base of the cliff and
the flowing of the broad swift current, and this space was full of armed
men.

They were our own people.  I knew most of them by sight.  But one among
them was not armed, and at that moment several of them were engaged in
binding the wrists of this one, far apart, to the ends of a pole.  Then
the man was stretched upon his back, two or three of them grasping the
centre of the pole, and thus drawing his arms high above his head.  His
feet had already been treated in like fashion.  And in this man, thus
made ready for I knew too well what, I recognised my slave and faithful
follower, Jambula.

Over him now was bending the leader of the _impi_, speaking in a stern,
decisive tone.

"Say now, thou dog, where lies hidden thy master, or I rip thee as thou
liest."  And the broad assegai quivered in the speaker's hand.

"Does ever a dog betray his master?" was the sullen reply.  "A man may,
but a dog, never."

"How does _that_ feel, and that, and that?" snarled the leader, bringing
his blade down to the broad breast of the Xosa, and inflicting two or
three deep gashes.  "Ha!  It will be through thee directly."

I knew this man well.  He was a brave enough fighter, but a sub-chief of
small account, and not one of my own following.  Could he capture me his
fame would be assured.  But he had that yet to do.

"Oh, good for thee, Sivuma," I growled to myself.  "Thou shalt feed the
alligators for this when my day comes."

Seeing that Jambula was not to be frightened thus, Sivuma signed to the
others.  Well I knew what should follow.  From a small fire which had
been kindled among the stones they brought an assegai, whose blade had
been heated red-hot.  This was placed against the inner part of
Jambula's thigh.  I could hear the hiss of the burning flesh, but the
brave Xosa never winced.

For long was the hot iron thus held, and when it began to cool another
was brought from the fire.  The perspiration poured from Jambula's face,
and his teeth were set with agony; but beyond a quiver of the limbs,
which he could not control, he quailed not, nor did he speak.

"Well, dog?" at last cried Sivuma furiously.  "Where is thy master?"

"Not from me will that news come, leader of Umzilikazi's hunting dogs,"
replied this brave man, speaking in a quick hard voice in his agony.

"Ho! then shall the game continue; and there is much daylight before us
yet," said Sivuma; and again he beckoned the torturers.

This time the red-hot blades were inserted between Jambula's toes.
Still, beyond some slight writhing, he showed nothing of the horrible
torment he suffered.

All of this, _Nkose_, I was obliged to witness--being helpless.  Had
there been but few men I had quickly been in their midst; but what can
one man do against a hundred?  I could have yielded, but this would not
have saved Jambula; for, in any case, death by torment was the doom of
the man--slave or free--who had linked his lot with that of the
attempted slayer of the King.  But I promised myself a rich revenge on
all concerned in this matter when my day should come; nor would my
yielding up of myself now do aught to hasten this, that I could see.
Besides, all this would I have endured myself rather than betray
Umzilikazi, in the days before he had broken faith with me; for it is
the duty of a man to suffer anything rather than betray his chief.

Now the torture had gone on a little longer, when I saw Jambula raise
his head.

"Cease now, I pray thee, my father!" he gasped.  "I can bear no more.  I
will lead you to the hiding-place of Untuswa."

At that I started, _Nkose_.  After all, this man was of an alien race--
not one of us.  He could not bear torture as the children of Zulu.

"Thou wilt, dog?" cried Sivuma, in delight.  "And thou shalt.  Fail,
though, and for days shalt thou lie beneath the red-hot pang of the
heated steel; ay, until thou diest."

"I will not fail, my father," groaned Jambula, as though weak and
exhausted with the pain.  "He is somewhat far from here; but you shall
take him.  Then will the King, the Great Great One, give me my life?"

"Thy life?  That I know not, but it may be," replied Sivuma, ready to
promise anything in his eagerness.

I have said that Jambula's hands and feet were stretched far apart,
being bound to poles.  His feet were now cut loose, but his feet only.

"The forest growth is thick where we have to go," he said, "and how
shall I pass through it bound thus?"

Sivuma looked at him a moment as though pondering.  Then he gave orders,
and they cut his hands loose.

But hardly had they done so when I saw through his plan.  With the hand
that was last loosened he grasped the end of the pole, and, whirling it
around, swept two men to the earth, finishing off by swinging it with a
hollow thud hard against the side of Sivuma's head, bringing the leader
to his knees.

So rapid had been Jambula's movements, so unexpected withal, that before
the warriors had quite understood what had happened, he had hewn his way
through them; and, still holding the pole, had plunged to the water's
edge and sprang far out into the stream.  But swift as he had been, he
had not been swift enough, for even as he leaped, quite half a dozen
assegais out of the shower hurled at him transfixed his body; and as he
struck the water, and was immediately whirled away by the current, I
knew that the frame which the waters swept down was that of a dead man.

This, then, _Nkose_, was the end of Jambula, my slave and faithful
follower, and his end was a noble one, and worthy of the bravest warrior
who ever lived, for he endured much horrible torture, and of himself
plunged into the embrace of death rather than betray his chief; and
further, striking down in that death two or more of those who guarded
him armed; and if there exists a braver or more valiant form of death
for a warrior than this, why, _Nkose_, I, who am now very old, have
never heard of it.



CHAPTER ELEVEN.

THE RUMBLE OF THE ELEPHANT.

I was now left alone, and having lain hidden a few days--for that
_impi_, though it made good search all around my hiding-place, failed to
find me--I began to travel southward again.  And as I travelled I
thought how once before I had fled from our people nationless and an
outcast, all for the sake of a woman, as I told you in that former tale
when I won the King's Assegai; and now a second time I thus fled--a
second time a woman had been the cause of my undoing; and yet it might
be otherwise, for I was not an old man then, and who may tell what time
holds in store?

And now, _Nkose_, I must leap over a great deal that happened during my
flight, for if I were to dwell upon everything, and all I went through,
and the peoples I fell in among--how some entertained me friendly and
well, and how from others--being but one man and alone--I had to fly as
fast and as far as from Umzilikazi's hunting dogs; how too, from others
again, who, seeming friendly, yet plotted against me the direst
treachery, from which I escaped as by a flash of time--all this, I say,
were I to dwell upon, I should never get to my story, which being bound
up with the fate of mighty nations and peoples, is the tale, _Nkose_,
which you would desire to hear rather than the escapes and wanderings of
one man.

Two moons had reached their full, and had died again, and by then it
seemed to me that once more I was coming among my own people, for I
heard our tongue spoken in all its fulness; and the kraals were even as
our kraals, with the ringed fence and domed huts, and the women at work
in the corn lands wore their hair gathered up in the _impiti_, or
reddened cone, even as our women wear it.  Now I judged it time to enter
in among them; and one day, feeling hungry, I stopped at a small kraal--
one of several--and gave greeting.  None but women were there at the
time, but presently from the other kraals men came hurrying, all armed.
These were young and unringed, and seeing before them a _kehla_, and a
man of my warrior aspect, their bearing, which had seemed somewhat
hostile, became respectful, and they gave me greeting deferentially; and
presently the women brought me _tywala_ and ears of green corn roasted,
for they might not open the milk-sacks, the heads of the houses being
absent.

Now, desiring information, I found a way of asking as to the head of
this group of kraals, whereat I saw surprise and some suspicion in their
faces as they exchanged glances, for taking me for an induna of high
import, they could little understand my ignorance on that point.  They
answered that it was the country of Nomapela, who was absent on an
expedition into the territory of the Amaswazi, wherein he was acting as
the chastising right arm of the King; but that, from day to day, they
had been expecting his return.

"Then I will await the return of Nomapela, my children," I answered.

"We hear you, father," they said.  And then I was shown to a hut and
provided with entertainment, yet I knew that these young men were all
suspicious of me, for I myself had come from the direction of the Swazi
country, and might well be one of that people.

But not long had I to wait, for presently runners came in, and soon
afterwards, great dust clouds, arising from the valley in the hills
through which I myself had come, announced the arrival of the _impi_.
But before it, streaming out through the defile, like a torrent when the
rain is falling among the hills, came a great herd of cattle.  _Whau_!
it was a goodly sight to see the beasts as they poured onwards, the
crashing of horns, as great bulls would now and then turn to fight each
other as they ran; the lowing of cows, with calves racing at their
sides, the gleam of the sun on the black and red and white and spotted
hides, the forest of horns and the rolling eyes, and the trampling, and
the dust-clouds, and the dark, leaping figures of the young men who,
with shouts, and flourishing their shields, kept the herd from straying
too far on either side.  And then the _impi_, a full regiment strong,
marching behind, the glitter of spear-points and the flash of shields as
they advanced in column, singing a song of war--_Whau_! that was a
goodly sight, and my eyes kindled as, with head thrown back, I watched
it, feeling as though I were indeed among my own people once more,
instead of among the children of Dingane, that mighty Elephant whose
tread shaketh the earth at his great kraal Nkunkundhlovu.
["Nkunkundhlovu" means "the rumble of the Elephant."]  And from that
great place I knew I could not now be many days distant.

As I watched, the _impi_ halted, squatting on the plain a little
distance off.  Several men detached themselves from it and came to the
kraal, foremost among them being Nomapela, the chief.  He gave me
greeting, and bade me sit with them, while bowls of _tywala_ were handed
round, and food.  But these men also were gazing at me curiously,
knowing not what to make of me, for they seemed to divine I was not one
of themselves, and also that I was a man of standing and authority.
This they could readily see, for the habit of commanding men will soon
stamp upon the very countenance of him who exercises it a look of
command; and the face of the man who practically commanded the whole of
Umzilikazi's army was likely to bear that stamp.  So they knew not what
to think, and could not ask direct.

"Do you fare our way, brother?" said Nomapela presently, while we ate
together.

"I seek speech with the King," I answered, "and would fain travel in
your company, ye who return conquerors."

These half-dozen men were all ringed and chiefs.  Nomapela I knew by
name as an induna of Dingane, and now I thought more than one of the
others were known to me by sight.  One indeed seemed to think the same
as regards myself, for him had I seen eyeing me from time to time, as
though he were trying to recollect me.  Then, as he turned, displaying a
certain scar upon his shoulder, I remembered him well--remembered the
scar, too.  It was a broad scar, as though the point of his shoulder had
been sliced nearly off, and that then the weapon, turning, had buried
itself in a deep straight cut.  Indeed, I ought to remember it, for it
was I who had inflicted it, and that with the very spear I held in my
hand.

Often during our march did I find this chief looking thus at me.  At
last he said quietly:

"The way from the North is far, brother, is it not?"

I assented, and he went on:

"Is the Black Bull of the North growing old and weak that he sends to
_konza_ to the Elephant who trumpets at Nkunkundhlovu?"

"No older and no weaker than the day his horns gored back the Elephant,
yonder at Inkume," I answered, betrayed for the moment into speaking up
for my nation.  "And I think on that day thou, too, didst feel the
goring of those horns, Mfulwana," I added with a half-laugh as I glanced
meaningly at the scar upon his shoulder.

"_Whau_!  That was a great fight, induna of the Black Bull," he
answered; and then, we being somewhat apart from the rest, we fought the
battle of the Three Rifts over again--in words this time--I and this
warrior, whom I had wounded there, and I found that my name and deeds at
that place were well known in Zulu-land.  Yes, and even how I had met
and striven with Mhlangana the brother of Dingane, shield to shield and
face to face; but I already knew how that Great One had travelled into
the Dark Unknown, for two bulls cannot rule in one kraal.

In due time we came to the White Umfolosi, which was but a short march
from Nkunkundhlovu, and were met on the river-bank by many who had come
to gaze on the returning _impi_, and to amuse themselves watching the
cattle and the women captives as they crossed the stream.  Much
whispering, too, did I perceive as regarded myself, for I was the only
one of that _impi_ not in war-gear, and the plainness of my attire and
my head-ring unadorned with plumes drew every eye to me, all at first
deeming me a captive, until they saw that I carried arms, and then they
knew not what to make of it.

And now, _Nkose_, as we came in sight of Nkunkundhlovu, I gazed upon
this great place with more than curious eyes.  I had seen, when a boy,
Tshaka's great kraal, Dukuza, but this one was even more magnificent.
As we looked upon it from the opposite heights, I noticed that the
_isigodhlo_ alone occupied fully a quarter of the space within the ring
fences, and before this was the King's cattle kraal.  Then the immense
number of huts, many rows deep, between the ring fences, _hau_! it
seemed to me that at least twenty thousand warriors might easily have
been housed there.  And the great space in the centre, _hau_! so great
was it that I thought our own great kraal, Kwa'zingwenya, would find
room to stand within that huge circle alone, could it be placed there.
But one thing was curious, and that was a stockade of upright logs,
which encircled the outside fence, leaving a broad space between,
through which an _impi_ might march in columns.

We arrived at about mid-day, and as we filed in through the lower gate
our _impi_ began to sing a triumph-song in honour of the King:

  "Ruler of the World, thy people turn to thee!
  Father of nations, thy children creep beneath thy shadow!
  Pursuer of the disobedient, thy scourges return to thee red;
  Red with the blood of those who have fallen beneath thy glance.
  Thy glance withers, O Stabber of the Sun; O Divider of the Stars.
  Before it nations are consumed and creep away to die!"

Thus sang they in praise of Dingane, and two regiments within the centre
space, drawn up under arms, took up the song, strophe by strophe!
clashing together their war shields as they sang.

Now, as we entered, the King himself came forth from the _isigodhlo_,
preceded by the _izimbonga_, running and roaring, and trumpeting and
hissing, as they shouted aloud the royal titles--and so long, indeed,
were these, and so many, that I thought they would last until sundown.
But at length they desisted, and the thunder of the "_Bayete_!" went up
with a roar as from the voice of one, as every warrior tossed aloft his
unarmed right hand, hailing the King.

I had seen this all my life when Umzilikazi appeared in state; but,
somehow, here it seemed to impress me as it had never before done.  The
vastness of this great place, Nkunkundhlovu, "The Rumble of the
Elephant," the perfect order and splendid array of the regiments under
arms, and, above all, the knowledge that here was the fountain-head of
the pure-blooded race of Zulu--the parent stock, the ruler and eater-up
of all nations, feared even by the white people, of whom just then we
were more than beginning to hear--all this told upon me, and great as
our new nation was, it was only great by reason of distance and strategy
when compared with this.  And now, _Nkose_, you will understand with
what curiosity I gazed upon him to whom all nations did _konza_--the
mighty Dingane, slayer of Tshaka the Terrible, and who now sat in that
Great One's seat.

He was a very tall man, in the full strength of middle age, but that
largeness of limb which peculiarly distinguishes the House of
Senzangakona imparted to him a stoutness of aspect which made his height
appear less than it really was.  And his look was right kingly.
Straight he walked, with his head thrown back--lord, indeed, of the
"People of the Heavens" [The literal meaning of "Amazulu."]--and his
eyes burned like stars, as, without bending his head, his glance swept
down over the array of warriors there assembled.

He took his seat upon a wooden chair covered with a leopard-skin robe,
which was set at the upper end of the great space, the chief indunas
squatting on the ground on either side.  The shield-bearer stood behind
the royal chair, holding aloft the great white shield of state, an
office I had many a time fulfilled in times past for Umzilikazi.  Then
he beckoned Nomapela and the other leaders of the returning _impi_, to
draw near and make their report.  They crept up, uttering the phrases of
_sibonga_, and set forth what had been done.  They had gone through that
section of the Swazi people who had defied the King and made raids upon
tribes who did _konza_ to the Great Great One, and had carried the torch
and the assegai upon their path.  None had escaped, save, perhaps, a few
who had fled to the mountains, having got warning of the approach of the
slayers.

"That they should not have been allowed to do," said Dingane.  "Yet in
pouring _tywala_ from one bowl to another, a few drops will now and then
perforce be spilled.  And what spoil have ye brought?"

"Much cattle and good, Ruler of the World," answered Nomapela.  "Some we
left, for it looked weak and sickly, and we knew it was not the will of
the King that the remnant of that people should starve."

"Ye have done well on the whole, my children," said Dingane, who looked
pleased.  "And how--what of the women?  Were any good enough to bring
hither?"

"_Au_!  Are _any_ good enough for the Father of Nations?" quickly
replied Nomapela.  "Yet some we thought too well favoured to feed the
blade of the spear, and these we brought."

"Ha!  I will see them, then," said Dingane, somewhat eagerly.  "Bring
them hither.  The cattle I will inspect some other time.  But--hold.
Whom have ye there?" he broke off, as his glance now fell upon me, where
I sat among the warriors, conspicuous by the lack of plumes and war
adornments.  "Is it the chief dog of this tribe of dogs ye have
exterminated?  Yet no, for he is armed."

"He is a stranger, O Elephant, who seeks audience of the Ruler of the
World," answered Nomapela.

"He is from the North, Serpent of Wisdom.  _Au_! and a great tale should
he have to tell," struck in Mfulwana.

"Ha!  From the North?  He has the look of one who could wield yon broad
spear he holds," said Dingane, with that piercing glance of his full
upon me.  Then louder, "Come hither, stranger."

I understood the ways of kings, _Nkose_, none better; and so, disarming,
I crept forward, the words of _bonga_ rolling out thick and fast the
while.  Arriving before the Great Great One, I prostrated myself, and
then, seating myself upon the ground, waited for him to speak.  Still he
kept silence, and seemed to be looking me through and through; and,
_Nkose_, I, who knew little of fear, felt it was no light thing to be
there thus, awaiting the word of this mighty one, at whose frown tribes
and peoples fell dead.

"_Whau_! but I think thou dost understand somewhat of the ways of war?"
he said, at last.

"That do I, indeed, Father of the Nations," I answered.

"Who art thou, and what is thy name?"

"I am Untuswa, the son of Ntelani, of the tribe of Umtetwa, Black
Elephant," I answered.

As I said these words, a great exclamation volleyed forth from the
warriors; from all within hearing, that is, for the place was large, and
my words could not reach everybody.  The _izinduna_ seated around the
King bent eagerly forward to look at me, and even Dingane himself could
not avoid something of a start.  Nomapela too, and Mfulwana, started and
stared, for not even to the latter had I revealed my identity.  He knew
that I was a war chief of high rank, and had wounded him in battle, but
even he had not guessed who I really was.

Now Dingane looked at me all the more eagerly, and I, who knew not what
was in his mind, thought that it was all even whether death now had
travelled my way at last, or not.  For I had wounded Mhlangana in the
side at the battle of the Three Rifts.  I myself had seen the blood
flow.  I had shed the blood of the royal House of Senzangakona, and were
this known to Dingane, _au_! the place of slaughter would soon know
another victim.

"Well, Untuswa, son of Ntelani, thy name is not unknown here, it would
seem," said the King, with a wave of the hand which took in those
around.  "And now, what is the message wherewith thou art charged?"

"With no message am I charged, Father of the World," I answered.  "I
desire to _konza_ to the lion of Zulu.  That is why I am come hither."

"Ah--ah, Untuswa," said the King softly, putting his head on one side.
"And what hast thou done, away in the North where a new lion roars
alone--that so mighty a warrior, so brave a leader of men, should seek
another king?"

"I have a reason, Serpent of Wisdom, but it is not for the ears of all,"
I said.  "One thing, however.  It is to the advantage of the House of
Senzangakona that I thus desire to _konza_ to the Elephant whose tread
shaketh the world."

"Thou art a brave man, Untuswa," said the King, "but I think thou
surpassest thyself in coming hither with that tale.  However, I will
hear it, and that shortly.  And now, Nomapela, bring hither thy
captives, for I would see them."

The women, to the number of a score and a half, were marched up before
the King, and lay prone on their faces in fear; howbeit some, who were
young and pretty, and well rounded, did not fear to look slily through
their fingers, calculating their chances of obtaining more or less
ascendency within the _isigodhlo_, for Dingane loved women much, though
he would never take onto himself wives, lest there should be strife as
to the succession.

"_Whau_! they are an ugly lot," I heard him mutter.  "Nevertheless, she
will do--and she--and she--and she," pointing at four of them with his
short-handled assegai.  "For the rest, I want them not.  You, Nomapela
and Mfulwana, and all who have led the _impi_, can choose two or three
apiece, and if any remain let Untuswa here take them; for it is not meet
that a warrior of his standing should come among us and have no wives."

We all shouted aloud in praise of the King's generosity, and just then
two of the women whom Dingane had chosen faltered forth that they had
small children with them.

"Children, have ye?" said Dingane softly.  "Then they and ye must part,
for my peace cannot be disturbed with screaming.  Fear not, my sisters,
they shall be well cared for--ah, yes--well cared for."  And the women
said no more, for although they knew what sort of "care" would be meted
out to their offspring, they themselves had no desire to travel into the
Dark Unknown--wherefore they uttered no further word.

Then the King retired, amid shouts of praise from all there, and
I--_Whau_! in but a short space I found myself occupying a fine hut
within the great kraal of Nkunkundhlovu, the owner of three captive
Swazi girls who had been given me as wives by Dingane, the Great King,
and this, at any rate, was better than the stake of impalement at
Kwa'zingwenya.



CHAPTER TWELVE.

A DEVOURING SWARM.

I had no reason, so far, to complain of my treatment at the hands of the
King, for I was supplied abundantly with all I required, either by the
orders of Dingane, or by the generosity of the _izinduna_ and warriors
of note within Nkunkundhlovu, many of whom would drop into my hut at all
times to have a talk with me; or we would sit in the shade in or about
the Great Place, watching the reviewing of young regiments put through
their practice by their chiefs, or talking and taking snuff.  But
although many thus came to hear a tale from me, and no tale pleased them
so much as that of our flight from the great Tshaka, unless it were that
of the Battle of the Three Rifts, yet I would ever tell such tale
cautiously, suppressing or varying any event I deemed it not advisable
to dwell too much upon, and among such was that very battle, wherein my
strategy and that of Lalusini had saved our nation, for it might be that
by the same strategy I should destroy Umzilikazi, and that I did not
desire to reveal just yet.

Among those who would fain have got much out of me was Umhlela, one of
Dingane's principal indunas--a little soft-voiced man, who would sit
among the others and put in a word here and a word there, but always
such a word as required careful pondering before I could give an answer
to it.  However, I had not myself sat at the right hand of a king all my
life for nothing.

Not until I had been three days at Nkunkundhlovu did the King send for
me.  As I took my way to the great hut, through the _isigodhlo_, I
noticed that the latter was formed in such wise that, once inside, a man
might have difficulty in finding his way out of it, or indeed further
into it, which spoke much for the suspiciousness of Dingane's character,
of all of which I took careful note; for, _Nkose_, it is by reading such
small things that a man may look into the minds of other men, be they
kings or not, even as you white people draw knowledge from books.

Dingane was seated in the great hut, and with him three _izinduna_--
Umhlela, the one who had already sought to draw out of me a great deal
more than I had intended he should know; Nomapela, him with whom I had
come hither; and Tambusa, a large fierce-looking man, who hitherto had
shown me no active friendship.  I did homage to the King; and then, in
obedience to his command, sat and prepared to tell my tale.  But as I
did so I could see that Dingane was in a sullen and angry mood.  Perhaps
his sleep had been bad, or he had heard ill tidings; and, _Nkose_,
whereas _we_ must laugh when we would rather weep, most look pleased
when our hearts are bursting with anger and hate, a king is different,
in that he need conceal what he feels to please no man.

Now my tale pleased not Dingane much, yet I told it not in its entirety,
nor did I say aught as to my attempt on the life of Umzilikazi.

"So, Untuswa," he said, "when the doings of one king do not please thee
thou wouldst _konza_ to another?"

"That is not quite it, Great Great One," I ventured.  "I am a fighting
man, a man of deeds rather than of words.  I was but a boy when I fled
with Umzilikazi, and ever since then has my spear been raised to strike
down his enemies, and now he has sorely broken faith with me.  I would
sooner die than serve such."

"_Hau_!  This is of the sort who would make their kings at their own
will," growled Tambusa to himself; but I heard him.

"I know not which way to take with thee, Untuswa," said Dingane,
doubtfully.  "I know not, indeed, whether to trust thee."

"There are but two ways, Elephant.  One is to make thyself master of
this new nation, easily and with but little loss.  The other way is not
to do so, O Father of the Wise!"

"There is yet another way, Untuswa, Father of the Fools," said the King,
softly sneering, "and that is the Hill of Slaughter for thee, rebel and
traitor to two kings."

"My life is in the hand of the Lion of Zulu, for I myself have placed it
there," I said.  "Now, father, should I have placed it there had I not
known it was of more value to this nation than to me?"

"Bold words," said Dingane, still frowning.

"Bold deeds are more to my taste, Great Great One," I said.  "The fate
of the new nation in the North is in my hand.  But if I die, it will
never lie beneath the paw of the Lion of Zulu."

The _izinduna_ were staring in amazement at the boldness of my words;
but the frown had left the brows of Dingane.  Looking straight at me, he
said softly:

"And what is to be thy reward for delivering this nation into my hand,
Untuswa?"

"Only this, Black Elephant, that the whole House of Matyobane be
delivered into my hand," I answered.

"Then it is only revenge thou seekest?"

"Only revenge, Ruler of the World."

Gazing keenly at him, I could see now that I had won over Dingane.  I
knew that the existence of our new nation had ever been to the parent
race as a sharp stone in the side of a man who sleepeth.  I knew that
the fear of the Zulu power was ever present to the mind of Umzilikazi,
and that one day that power would, sooner or later, reach him.  I knew,
moreover, all the weak points of our nation and army; and, knowing this,
doubted not my ability to surprise and crush it, given sufficient force,
and that with ease.  Now my revenge looked very near indeed.

But if I had won over Dingane, there was one power I had yet to deal
with, and that was the induna Tambusa.  In this man I foresaw a
formidable opponent, and his word carried weight in the ears of Dingane,
even as did mine in times past in the ears of Umzilikazi.  Now Tambusa
spoke:

"Revenge is a great motive for a man to give up all his cattle and wives
in order to obtain it."

"Some men act from great motives and some from very small ones," I
answered shortly; for I, who but yesterday was, next to the King, the
greatest in my own nation, could ill brook the tone of this man, who was
but an induna like myself.  But Dingane again took up the talk.

"Well, Untuswa, I must think out this matter.  If thou canst deliver
this nation into my hand, why then it may be that I will deliver those
who remain of the House of Matyobane into thine.  But if thou failest,
what then?"

"My life is in the hand of the Great Great One," I answered.

"Ha!  Thou hast well said," replied the King.  And then he dismissed me.

For many days then I dwelt at Nkunkundhlovu; I, who had now become a
wanderer; I, who had been a man of large possessions, the chief of many
kraals, and the owner of vast herds of cattle, was now as poor as the
poorest, living only on the King's bounty.  But from time to time
Dingane would send for me, and we would talk long and earnestly over our
plans for conquering Umzilikazi.  At last I saw my revenge within my
grasp.  All was in preparation.  No more _impis_ were sent out on
errands of plunder or punishment, and the regiments which dwelt at the
great military kraal of Imbele-bele were ordered up to Nkunkundhlovu.
They came, making a splendid show as they paraded before the King, in
full war-array.

When this was at an end and I was walking back to my hut, I heard myself
hailed by a deep voice.  Turning, I beheld a fighting chief arrayed in
the war dress of the Imbele-bele regiment.

"It seems to me that this is not our first meeting.  Wanderer from the
North," said this man.

"Ha!  I should know thee," I replied, "for we have exchanged hard blows
in a great battle, Silwane.  More than that, thou didst once cry me the
`_Bayete_' and didst take orders from me as to the disposal of the
invading host of Zulu."

At those words Silwane stared as though he were face to face with a
madman.  But I brought him to my hut, and there alone, over a bowl of
good _tywala_, I told him of those things which had happened during the
blackening of the moon which preceded that great battle which was the
saving of a nation's life, and of which I have told you, _Nkose_, in
another tale.  When I had done, Silwane stared harder than ever,
thinking perhaps I was the most wonderful strategist he had ever heard
tell of, or the most wonderful liar.

"And now, having saved thy nation, thou art to be the means of
destroying it, Untuswa?" he said.  "Well, if thou art as good at
fighting for us as thou wert against us it will go hard for Umzilikazi's
army.  Well do I remember that great white shield of thine in the thick
of the battle.  _Whau_! but we thought it was Umzilikazi himself."

Thus we talked, we two leaders of men--and often afterwards--and we two
who had exchanged hard blows face to face now became friends, who were
to deal hard blows side by side.

Almost were we ready to march northward, I say, and now the spirit of
Lalusini would appear to me in my dreams, but glad and smiling, and by
this I knew the omen of our success was good.  But on one night I row
her thus more plainly than ever, and it seemed I could touch her, and
then her face changed, and grew quick and watchful, as though in
warning, and it seemed as though the weight of some great peril lay upon
me.

Now as I woke, in something very like fear, I found that one of my Swazi
wives, who slept at my side, had sprung up and was shaking with fear.
She declared that the form of a woman had passed through the hut; that
it was a spirit, for assuredly no living woman possessed such beauty of
form or face.

I knew not what to make of this; yet, while affecting to scorn her tale,
I questioned the girl closely.  If she, like myself, had but dreamed,
why then it was passing strange that our dream should have shown us both
the same vision.  In truth, I knew not what to think.  Powerful beyond
all others I knew Lalusini's magic to be; was it then sufficiently
powerful to bring her back from the dead?  I thought much of this during
the days that followed.

But the days that followed brought that which turned all our thoughts in
an entirely new direction, for tidings came which were weighty indeed.
The Amabuna [Boers] were advancing into the land of Zulu.

They were swarming in, men said.  The slopes of Kwahlamba were covered
with flocks and herds--their waggon teams were winding through the
mountain passes, seen like vast serpents in the distance, far as the eye
could see.  In the face of this new enemy Umzilikazi was forgotten.  No
expedition to the North could be undertaken now.  Day by day men brought
tidings.  The numbers of the Amabuna were countless, they said, and with
them, besides their flocks and herds, they had their women and children
in their waggons.  They had come to remain in this land.

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, Untuswa," 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, Untuswa?" 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, Untuswa," 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 Untuswa," 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.



CHAPTER FIFTEEN.

THE CRUSHING OF THE SNAKE.

As we sat there, we _izinduna_, watching the place of slaughter where
those evil-doers had found death, we heard the volume of a mighty
war-song approaching.  Those within Nkunkundhlovu hushed their own
singing and gazed outward.  A great _impi_ drew near, marching in
columns like unto broad black snakes gliding over the ground.  Yet, not
all black, but spotted; for the white and red of shields, the streaming
of cowhair tufts, the rustling of feather capes, showed forth above the
blackness of marching bodies.  The wavy glint of spear-points in the sun
was as a sea of light--the tramp of feet as the dark and terrible array
swung onward--the thunder of the war song!  _Hau_!  I could feel all the
blood tingling within me, and my eyes were aglow as I gazed.  Here was a
force, indeed.  That which had been led against us by Mhlangana might
equal it, but could hardly surpass it.

On they came--and as this vast mass of warriors poured in by the lower
gate of Nkunkundhlovu they raised the war song of Dingane:

  "Us'eziteni,
  Asiyikuza sababona."

Soon the great open space within was crowded.  Rank upon rank the
warriors squatted there, crouching behind their shields, their eyes
glaring like those of lions as they awaited the word which should let
them loose upon their prey.  When the roar of the "_Bayete_," which
greeted the King's appearance, had sunk into silence, Dingane addressed
them:

"Lion cubs of Zulu, you are here in your might, for yonder lies prey
worthy of your fangs.  Yonder is an enemy who has swarmed down upon our
land like the deadly locust pest--an enemy who comes with soft words,
but never fails to devour that people who is fool enough to believe
those words.

"There is not room for two nations in the land of Zulu.  Two bulls
cannot rule in one kraal.  Yonder is another bull who would bellow
loudest in the Zulu fold.  The horns of that bull are cut off, but there
is enough of him left to attract by his roarings other bulls like unto
himself.  Go now, therefore, and slay that bull.  Make an end of him
utterly."

As the King paused, with a wave of the hand in the direction of the
distant camp of the Amabuna, the warriors made, as though they would
have sprung to their feet; but the King's hand restrained them, and they
sank back.  Dingane went on:

"When we destroy a locust swarm which is devouring our lands, we do not
destroy the flying insects only.  The young which appear after them,
too, we stamp flat.  So shall it be with this locust swarm.  Stamp it
flat.  Make an end of it utterly.  Let none escape.  Go, my children!"

As one man that dense mass of warriors rose to its feet.  As from one
man the "_Bayete_" thundered forth from every throat; and the winnowing
of shields and quivering rattle of spear-hafts was as a great gale
sweeping through a forest.  They poured forth from the gates, those
terrible ones, broadening out upon the plain beyond, in a great stream
of rushing men--of lions, of leopards, hungry for blood; and we
_izinduna_, who followed more leisurely, could see in the distance the
white _Umfundisi_ standing at the door of his house, looking upon our
movements.

"_Whau_!" growled Tambusa, scowling towards the white man.  "Such as
that should long since have travelled the way of the spear.  It is such
evil crows whose croak brings our enemies upon us."

"Yet that is not ill-doing," I said, "for without enemies how should
these lion-cubs find meat for their teeth?"

"There is that without these swarms of white carrion," replied Tambusa,
and his voice was as the snarling of a beast.  "_Whau_!  It is all
alike.  It licks the feet of the King when it thinks to get land from
him.  When it has got it, the Great Great One should be its dog, even as
yonder crow dared to croak not many days since.  My heart has been heavy
ever since that he was not sent to take the place of those upon the
stakes."

On they sped, those messengers of death, on through the burning glare of
mid-day; on through the black gloom of night; on ever, over rugged
height, through tangled valley and rushing river, pausing but little to
take rest.

After many days we saw signs that we were near the camp of the Amabuna.
We rested then, and pushed on cautiously during the night, until within
striking distance.  Then we paused.  Little sleep was ours that night.
In silence they lay, that black army of terrible ones, with eyes
strained upon the first streak of dawn that should reveal to them their
prey.

It came at last, that dawn.  No sound from the camp of those whites told
that any were awake and watching.  They slept as though safe in their
own land, as though they had not of their own accord come to place their
necks beneath the paw of the Lion of Zulu.  Only the crunch of the jaws
of cattle, only the occasional sneeze of a goat, broke the silence.

In such silence--in such stillness--did the dawn lighten.  Then two or
three men began to stir, moving sleepily inside the encampment.  We
could wait no longer.  The word was given to fall on.

I could not sit still with the _izinduna_ when blows were falling, and
at the head of the right horn of the _impi_ I found myself flying over
the defences, spear in hand.  Within, the awakening for those whites was
terrible.  Wild shrieks arose with the roar of our appalling war-shout,
as women, with the stamp of death upon their pale countenances, rolled
from the waggons, and with arms tossed on high, screamed for that mercy
we were not there to show.  Men were there, too; but these were few, yet
they fought.  Shaggy faces confronted me, jets of flame shone redly in
my eyes.  My great assegai was shearing around, cleaving the hearts and
bodies of these.  _Whau_! that was a moment!  And through it all, I
could see lines upon lines of flying bodies, of tufted shields and
gleaming spears come surging over the waggons on the other side.  We had
taken the camp.

Not yet, however, was our work complete.  Grouping together, those
Amabuna stood and fought.  _Au_! they fought!  It was worth living,
_Nkose_, to see the fight those men made.  With hatchets and knives they
defended themselves; with clubbed guns, too, for they could no longer
reload.  Man to man, hand to hand, eye to eye, they fought.  But the
breadth of our broad shields met blow or stab, and the whelming weight
of those behind threw upon them such masses of men that they could no
longer lift hand, and were borne to earth.  Blood streamed forth
everywhere, and amid the grim death-yells of the Amabuna and the screams
of their women beneath the assegais rose the shrill "_I-ji_!" the fierce
triumph hiss of each victorious warrior as he drove his spear home.

And now the whole inside of that great waggon camp was as a den of
raging lions let loose.  The dead lay in heaps, but any movement seen
among such heaps would draw a rush to the place, to stab and stab again.
Children of all ages--boys, girls, infants--were dragged from their
hiding-places and speared.  Even the cattle within the enclosure were
ripped and slain.  Nothing was spared, young or old, male or female--all
were slain; for it was not our custom to spare; and in this matter the
King's word had been explicit: "Make an end of them utterly."  And this
we had done.

Now that all were slain we began to see what plunder the camp contained,
that it might be collected for the King.  And there was much of it--for
besides all manner of provisions and stores, there were things of iron
and of glass, knives and axes, and all manner of useful things; but,
best of all, there were the long guns of the Amabuna, and powder and
ball.  So much of all this was there that it took time to remove it all,
and arrange it in such wise that it could be borne back to
Nkunkundhlovu, and even then we had to leave some of it.

"Make an end of them utterly."  Such had been the word of Dingane, and
looking at that waggon camp when we left it, I think, _Nkose_, you would
have said we had obeyed the word of the Great Great One to the full.  By
hundreds the slain lay there, heaps and heaps of dead bodies whom the
assegai had kissed again and again.  In darker heaps, too, lay our own
dead; but of this we thought not much, for even these whites, dreaded
alike by all nations who had met them, had not been able to stand before
the power of Zulu.  They had been swept away, as all black nations had
been before them; swallowed up, and the wave of our might had rolled
over them.  And as we moved from the place a fierce new song of triumph
thundered forth from the ranks of our host.

There were some who would have burned the waggons and such stuff as
could not be taken away, but this we _izinduna_ would not permit, lest
the smoke, seen from afar, should convey warning to other camps of the
Amabuna.  For our work was not yet done.

Word was now passed that the _impi_ should form up, and indeed not much
telling was needed, for their appetite for blood, only whetted with what
had already been shed, the warriors could hardly be kept in hand, so
eager were they to reach those other camps.  But it would have served no
good purpose that they should tire themselves by marching at a run.
Yet, short of this, our advance was a rapid one.

Even then, however, rapid as it was, we were not to fall upon those
other camps, as we had expected, all unprepared.  Whether it was that
some had escaped from the first camp, or that the noise of the shouting
and the firing had reached their ears, we found these Amabuna with their
waggons drawn up so as to form a wall, the spaces between the wheels
even being filled in with bags and boxes, and as we drew near they were
still busy driving in their cattle and horses, for some of their herds
had sighted us from afar.  Yet even then they were obliged to leave much
of their cattle outside.

But to this we gave no heed, for we counted all these as ours already,
and such as were scattered about the land we could collect at our
leisure.  With a roar and a rush our _impi_ went at the waggon forts,
spreading out in "horns" so as to enwrap the whole in a wall of living
leaping men.

But the long guns from within began to spit forth destruction and death.
Pouring into the dense masses of the charging warriors the storm of
lead wrought terrible havoc.  Those behind, eager to get in among the
enemy, bore onward the front ranks, and for these there was no turning
back.  The air trembled with roars of anguish and of fury, as the lead
ploughed through body and limb; and in the death-throes the warriors in
the foremost ranks would make one more effort to hurl themselves upon
the grim foe who lined the waggons, so resolute, so cool, and yet so
prompt to strike hard when opportunity offered.

Sudden as our onslaught had been, huge our force, so grimly determined
was the resistance of those Amabuna, fighting for their lives and for
their cattle and women, that they actually beat back one side of the
attack.  Now we, _izinduna_, as the Zulu custom had then become, were
taking no active part in the battle, but from our station on a
neighbouring rise were directing the movement of our people, by signal
or by runner.  But seeing one side of the _impi_ falling into confusion
we could sit still no longer.  Tambusa's eyes were like those of a
hungry lion, and for long my broad assegai--Umzilikazi's gift--had
seemed to burn within my grasp.  We sprang to our feet.

"Now, Untuswa!" cried Silwane, "you and I will fight side by side, even
as once we fought against each other."

Down we rushed.  We were here--there--everywhere.  Under the influence
of our presence, the encouragement of our voices, the wavering side of
the _impi_ rallied, and hurled itself--a solid black wave--upon the
waggon barricade once more.  _Hau_!  I seemed to see nothing clearly
then.  All was red about me.  Our warriors, baring their teeth, howled
like beasts, making furious leaps in their attempts to reach these
determined and terrible enemies; but ever to be met by those fierce,
shaggy countenances, smoke-blackened, whence gleamed forth eyes fell
with hate and purpose; and the flashes of the guns would singe and
blind, so near were they, as they were thrust forward and discharged
where the crowd was thickest and most threatening.  Even their women
fought.  We could see them behind, loading the guns as fast as the
Amabuna could fire almost.  Great broad-faced hags would reach over the
waggons and hack at our warriors with axes and choppers, or hurl pans of
boiling water over their naked bodies when they approached too near.

More hot, more fierce, their fire hissed through our ranks.  The Amabuna
had loaded their guns with many bullets at a time, and these, tearing
through our serried ranks at close quarters, cut down our men like corn.

Again and again they fell back, only to rush forward once more.  But
every such onward rush was made with less and less of heart.  They could
not face those terrific storms of lead, and we, _izinduna_, seeing that
the day was lost, made haste to draw off our warriors before these,
panic-stricken, should break and flee.  And what a loss had been ours!
The waggon forts seemed ringed in with the heaps of our dead.  And those
who lived!  Bleeding, panting, begrimed; shields hacked and slit, broken
spears, wounds gaping redly--such was our aspect.  Many with shattered
limbs, where the bullets of the Amabuna had met them, dragged themselves
forward and begged of their brethren the death of the spear, which was
granted them.  Our repulse was complete.

Yet there remained the cattle, and all outside the waggon forts we
speedily collected; for the Amabuna, valiant as they were when under
that shelter, were too wise to leave it and come forth to meet us in the
open.  But although it was a very large and fine herd of beasts which we
swept before us on our return to Nkunkundhlovu, our minds were uneasy.
Those Amabuna had held their own against us, and were left alive.
Presently they would bring others.  For every one we could kill, five
would grow in his place, as, indeed, we were soon to see.



CHAPTER SIXTEEN.

OF A NEW WITCH-FINDING.

Dingane was very angry when we returned to Nkunkundhlovu, and, indeed at
first, it looked as though some would pay for our repulse with their
lives.  But that was no time for sacrificing skilled leaders of men, and
winning the resentment of their relatives and following; and this the
King knew.  So, with gloomy and bitter reproaches, he dismissed us.

The first step taken by the two principal _izinduna_, Tambusa and
Umhlela, was to send out and muster every available man throughout the
land.  All were enrolled, even those whose youth would have precluded
them from bearing arms yet awhile, and several new regiments were
formed; and while this was going on, a careful watch was kept upon the
movements of the Amabuna, for we knew not what they might attempt next.
It was intended to attack them again before more could join them, but
the idea was abandoned, for careful observation showed that we should
stand but small chance of success, so warily did they move; scouting the
land far and wide, and camping in such strength.  So our people watched
and waited, biding their time.

Now all this, _Nkose_, in no wise helped forward my plans.  I had hoped
that we should have made an end of these invaders, and that then Dingane
would have sent forth a strong _impi_ to crush Umzilikazi.  So should I
have obtained my revenge.  But with such a formidable foe upon our
borders as these Amabuna, the King would not have a single regiment out
of call; wherein, of course, he was wise.

All of which did not help me, for now there was no more fighting my
heart grew heavy once more as I thought of Lalusini and how she was lost
to me; of my high position among my former nation forfeited for ever.
And, indeed, my position among the parent stock was becoming daily far
from secure, and I was looked coldly on by many who had been most
friendly before, and even by the King himself.  This I attributed to the
influence of Tambusa, who had always hated me, and would be glad if by
any means he could compass my death.  Afterwards I learned that I was
right, for, in his jealousy of me, Tambusa never lost a chance of
poisoning the mind of Dingane against me, more than hinting that the
repulse of the _impi_ was due to my presence in the battle in a position
of command.  More and more then did I feel that I was stumbling upon the
edge of a very high cliff.  More and more did I awaken each morning to
wonder if I should see the setting of another sun.

Then something occurred which still farther deepened my forebodings.  On
returning from an expedition which had lasted but a few days, I found
that one of my Swazi wives had disappeared.  None knew what had happened
to her, but I could see by their looks that it were better not to
inquire too closely.  Well, it mattered not.  One girl was as good as
another since the loss of Lalusini, and I still had two remaining.  But
she who had disappeared was that same girl who had been by my side what
time I had dreamed; and she, too, had awakened in fear, declaring that a
vision had passed through the hut, and I thought that the disappearance
of this one, rather than that of the other two, augured ill--how, I knew
not.

As the days went by, the gloom that lay upon the mind of the King
deepened, and herein the _izanusi_--ever eager for blood, or for gain--
saw their opportunity.  The wizardry which had wrought ill for our arms
must be removed.  So there was "smelling out," and many were killed; but
still the invaders did not melt away in fear, as the witch doctors had
promised.  On the contrary, they grew stronger; for others crossed
Kwahlamba to join them.

Then the _izanusi_ declared they had seen other visions--had received a
new and important revelation, to the effect that the workers of _tagati_
had not yet been discovered, but should be by an entirely new method.
But Dingane was becoming weary of them and their trickeries.  He sent
for Tola, the chief of the _izanusi_, and roundly told him to use what
methods he liked, but if his prophecies fell short of fulfilment this
time death should be his reward.

The land seemed shaken by a shudder of ill-ease.  The warriors were
growing impatient once more to be sent against the Amabuna, but the
counsels of Umhlela, that we should wait for our enemies to make the
first move--as they surely would--prevailed.  So when the word went
forth that all were to assemble at Nkunkundhlovu for a great
witch-finding, an eagerness of relief went through all; for now we would
see what the new method, as announced by the _izanusi_, would bring
forth.

Many a "smelling out" had I witnessed, _Nkose_, as you know, and the
truth was, I hated them.  I had been too much among the heads of the
nation not to know what their real object was, however much the common
people might be deceived, and believe--or pretend to--in the power of
the _izanusi_.  I had known but two real magicians in my life--Masuka,
the old Mosutu, and Lalusini, my sorceress wife--and these used not
their powers to destroy any, save real evil-doers; never to take the
lives of brave men for the sake of gain or malice.  All others I knew to
be jugglers and impostors, and that Tola and his following were of this
order I had long since determined.  So there was no eagerness in my mind
as on the day appointed I sat near the King, in the midst of the other
_izinduna_, while the witch doctors began in their usual way.

The open space within the great kraal was densely packed, save that room
was left for the wild dancing and other ceremonies employed by the
_izanusi_.  These ran up and down, mouthing and bellowing, and shaking
the ornaments of their calling--bladders filled with blood, festoons of
entrails of sacrificed beasts, bunches of feathers and bird's claws, and
snakes and lizards.  Now and again they would halt, and pointing with
their wands, tipped with giraffe tail, at some one in the crowd, would
name him, calling, out a string of instances of witch dealing.  This one
held converse with a black baboon, that one slept all day and only moved
out at night, another was reputed to eat snakes, and so forth.  All so
named were immediately led forth to the place of slaughter; but I
noticed that among them was no person of any consequence.  The witch
doctors, to all appearance, were destroying them out of sheer wanton
craving for blood.

Dingane was growing impatient.  His brows were wrinkled into a heavy
frown.  Not for such a well-worn exhibition as this, surely, had the
bulk of the nation been convened.  If so, then indeed it would go ill
with Tola and his following.  This was running in the mind of the King;
and I, who sat near him, could see into his thoughts.

Now the witch doctors ceased in their mouthings, and suddenly, from
behind them, appeared a band of girls.  There might have been three
score of them, and they seemed to have been chosen from the handsomest
and finest of the nation.  They were arrayed in the richest beadwork,
and wore wreaths of green leaves upon their heads and twined around
their shapely limbs.  A strange band, indeed, to spring up suddenly from
the midst of those wizard-hounds of blood and of death.

They advanced, swaying to a measured dancing step, and softly singing.
A deep murmur of amazement and delight arose from all; for this was a
fair and goodly sight, and all welcomed it as a relief from the grim
hideousness of the witch doctors.  A weight of fear seemed lifted from
the minds of many.  These, surely, were not here to doom to death.

But as their singing rose louder and louder, as I caught the burden of
their song, I, for one, felt by no means so sure.  They sang of a nation
cursed by an evil blight, of the counsels of strangers, of the first
repulse the great Zulu power had ever known, of the presence of
strangers in the ranks of the lion-cubs, of the presence _of a
stranger_.  And every time they repeated the words they would sway round
so as to face me, as I sat among the _izinduna_ at the right hand of the
King.

Then, _Nkose_, the nerves within me seemed to tingle.  Well knew I the
meaning of this.  _I_ was the object of their denunciations.  Any moment
now I might step into the Dark Unknown.  Doom had found me at last.  _I
was being "smelt out_."

Well, indeed, could I see through it all now.  This had been arranged
between Tambusa, my enemy, and Tola, the head _izanusi_.  The singing
band of girls, designed to add novelty to the witch finding, as well as
to please Dingane, had for its object my death.  The red cloud began to
surge around my brain as I sat there.  Not in me was it to die tamely;
and softly I reached forth for the stick which was the only approach to
a weapon which custom allowed upon such an occasion, and calculated how
great a spring would enable me to crush in Tambusa's skull ere they
could lay hands on me.  The death of the stake would be my lot; no
matter--I must slay somebody.

The band of singing-girls swayed nearer and nearer; then with a rush of
their light feet they came straight for me.  Now for the doom.  But--not
yet.  Some unseen force seemed to turn them back again.  They held on
around the circle, not having pointed at or named me.

This happened several times, and each time I looked to hear the word of
doom, each time I tightened up my muscles for my spring upon Tambusa.
Each time, too, the song denunciatory of "the stranger" grew fiercer,
each time only to sink and die away in their throats.  Then the
_izanusi_, as in encouragement, lifted up their deep hoarse voices, as
the voices of beasts growling for blood.

_Whau, Nkose_!  I can see it all still--for at such moments a man may
seem to live a thousand lifetimes--the immense kraal, with its ringed
fences and vast circles of yellow huts--the assembled multitude
blackening the earth in its awed hush--the sea of expectant faces--the
countenance of the King sternly set, those of the _izinduna_
expressionless as stones--the band of singing-girls--the savage eyes of
the witch doctors--and, as a background to the whole, a brooding sky,
blue-black with the threatenings of its pent-up storm.

Once more, encouraged by the wild howling of the _izanusi_, this strange
band of doom came whirling towards me.  This time I was gone.  But, no!
They halted more suddenly than before, and their song seemed to die on
their very lips.  Then I looked up from calculating the distance between
my stick and the skull of Tambusa, and beheld--a woman!

She was standing alone in the open, midway between the cloud of scowling
witch doctors and the band of girls, and there was that in her wondrous
eyes which constrained and controlled the latter.  She, too, was arrayed
in rich beadwork, but wore no wreaths or garlands of leaves, and as I
gazed upon her standing there--a splendid and majestic form--why then,
_Nkose_, anybody who chose might have stepped up and slain me,
unresisting in my amazement.  For she who stood there was none other
than my lost sorceress-wife, Lalusini.

Had the shades sent forth their spirits?  Had the grim alligators in
Umzilikazi's pool of death shrank back in fear from so royal a prey?
Was I dreaming, or had I gone mad with the prolonged suspense of my
impending doom?  No!  In the very life there she stood--she to avenge
whom I would have slain a king--would have destroyed a whole mighty
nation.  And she stood there to avert from me the sure and dreadful
death--the death of the man at whom the witch-wand has been pointed.

One glance she flashed upon me from her wonderful eyes--quick, full,
penetrating--one glance and no more; but in that glance I knew I was
safe, for who should harm one whom the most marvellous magic ever known
now protected?

For some time thus she stood, speaking no word, only gazing around with
calm commanding eyes.  Then the King grew impatient.

"Have done," he exclaimed, with a frown.  "Let us see whether the magic
of Mahlula is greater than that of Tola."

"The magic of Mahlula," had said Dingane.  Then Lalusini was not known.
Yet it seemed to me the majesty of the House of Senzangakona was so
stamped upon every feature that her very look must betray her.

"Judge now for thyself, Father of the Wise," she replied.  "This is the
word of Mahlula.  The `stranger' of whom Tola speaks, of whom his
company did but now sing, is not here, else these"--showing with a sweep
of the hand the band of girls, who had ceased their movements and were
now sitting in a ring around her--"these whom I have trained and taught
would have found him--for my will works through theirs--my eyes see
through theirs.  Therefore, he cannot be here."

"Why, then, are we?" said Dingane, with a meaning in his tone that boded
ill for Tola and his following.

"Was it to learn the fate of a nation, Great Great One?" answered
Lalusini, or Mahlula, as she was known here.  "Learn it then so far.
The end is not yet.  But--I see the shook of war.  I see men and horses
advancing.  The lion-cubs of Zulu flee before them.  But lying behind
the hills on either side is a dark cloud of terrible ones.  Still they
advance, those whites.  Then that cloud whirls down upon them, breaks
over them.  Ha!  There are death-screams as the flash of the spears
rises and falls, and horses straggling, hoofs in air, and the song of
those black ones is a battle-song of triumph."

Now I saw that the speaker had fallen into one of those divining trances
I knew so well, and in which all she foretold had come to pass.
Dingane, too, began to see this, and asked eagerly, yet not without awe
in his tone:

"And when shall this be, sister?"

"Hearken to no idle counsels.  Heed no false magic," she answered, with
meaning.  "I, and I alone, can see into the future.  Be led by me if
this nation would live."

With these words, I, who looked, saw the vision pass away from
Lalusini's countenance, and her eyes were as those of one who awakens
out of a deep sleep.  The King, too, must have seen it, for he forebore
to question her further.  Then he spoke, low at first, but raising his
voice in a black and terrible burst of wrath.

"Now of yon impostors I will make an end.  Take them away, ye black
ones."  And he pointed with his spear at Tola and his following.

At the word of the King, the slayers sprang forward.  But the witch
doctors fled howling, and keeping in a compact body, broke through all
who stood in their path, and the lower end of the kraal became full of
the kicking, tumbling bodies of men.  But the slayers were among them;
and the people barring their way to the lower gate, they were seized and
dragged, howling and shrieking, without the kraal.  And as the
knobkerries fell with a heavy thud upon their cunning and bloodthirsty
brains, a murmur of fierce delight escaped all who heard, for the people
hated these wolves of _izanusi_, and rejoiced that they themselves
should taste the death they loved to deal out to others.

There was one, however, who did not so rejoice, and that was Tambusa;
indeed at first he had made a movement to stay the word, which was that
of doom to the _izanusi_; but the look on the face of Dingane was so
fell and deadly, that even the boldness of Tambusa quailed before it.

And I--_Whau_!--I rejoiced that I still lived, and that Tola was dead.
But Tambusa did not.



CHAPTER SEVENTEEN.

THE DWELLING OF THE WISE ONE.

With the slaughter of the witch doctors Dingane had retired, and the
vast assemblage of the people, breaking up, was streaming away in
different directions.  Mahlula had disappeared.

Then, having gained my huts, I gave orders that I was to be left alone,
and sat down to take snuff and to think.  For here was a wonderful
thing.  She whom I had thought dead was alive again--had reappeared at
the very moment when death would otherwise have overtaken me.  There was
something of fear in my mind as I thought of it all.  Was it really
Lalusini whom I had seen, or was it another sorceress who bore to her a
most marvellous likeness--a sister, perhaps?  But even the House of
Senzangakona could not produce two such, I reflected; and then the very
method she had adopted of averting from me the doom was the method of
Lalusini.  And now I longed for her again, for, as I told you, _Nkose_,
I loved her as you white men love your women; but if, for some reason,
she had been forced to hide herself under another name, how could I, the
wanderer, the stranger, the man who had come hither to deliver his own
nation to destruction, reveal the real relationship between us by laying
claim to her?

How was it I had never heard men speak of her?  No talk, no word of a
marvellous witch doctress, of a sorceress like no other ever seen, had
reached my ear.  Tola I knew, and those who worked magic with him, but
of this one never a word.  Was it because I was a stranger and not yet
fully trusted?  But old Gegesa's tale was untrue anyhow, for here was
Lalusini alive and well, and beautiful as ever.  Then I thought how to
get speech with her.

To this end I went out.  First I sought the hut of Silwane.  But when
after bringing round the talk to the events of the morning I would have
drawn out of him what he knew as to the sorceress Mahlula, I found that
he knew but little, as did those who sat in his hut.  Her appearance in
their midst was mystery, her movements were mystery, her very dwelling
was mystery; and hearing this I thought how greatly I could have amazed
Silwane by revealing how it was through the magic of this sorceress that
our arms had won success over the great _impi_ he had helped to command
at the Place of the Three Rifts.  But from them I could obtain no
tidings, nor from any with whom I talked on the subject; and as day
after day went by, I began to wish I had not beheld Lalusini again, for
now it seemed as though I were losing her once more.

Then my mind went back--back over my life since I had first beheld
Lalusini and at great peril had managed to keep her for myself; back
over our first meetings in the rock chamber of the Mountain of Death,
what time we had eaten up the Bakoni, the nation who owned the Blue
Cattle, and I remembered her words: "There is a people into whose midst
I will one day return, and there I shall be great indeed, and you
through me."  Ha!  Was this part of a scheme--of a carefully-matured
plan?  It seemed like it.  So I resolved to wait and let things shape
their course.

Now the very day on which I had formed this resolve I chanced to be
outside of Nkunkundhlovu alone.  Two girls strode by me with bundles on
their heads, and as they did so, one whispered, "This night--induna of
the Great One who site in the north.  This night, by the two large
reed-beds at the turn of the river.  Mahlula waits."

The speaker passed on, but I, _Nkose_--my blood leaped at the words.  At
last I would have speech with Lalusini.  At last we would meet face to
face.  Yet, even in the midst of my joy came a misgiving.  Was it a
snare--was it a trap Tambusa had set for my undoing? for the man who
wanders at night on mysterious business--_au_! he is soon an object of
suspicion, and to be an object of suspicion at that time meant death.

This, however, I was ready to risk, but for all that I resolved to
proceed warily, and he who should attempt treachery upon me might well
wish he never had.  So with my great assegai, together with a heavy
knob-stick and a small shield, I wandered up the river shortly before
sundown, and did not return to Nkunkundhlovu for the night.

It had fallen quite dark, though the stars glittered forth in countless
eyes from the blackness above.  There was just the faintest murmur of
the wind in the reed-beds, like the sigh of one who waits, and
expecting, is disappointed for the time.  The water flowed, evenly and
smooth, lapping a low rock slab on the opposite bank, and now and again
a soft splash and ripple as some crocodile rose or sank.  In the air was
a feeling of wizardry and awe; but I had passed through too many strange
things to hold such in fear.  Yet it seemed over long that I sat by that
dark water and whispering reeds, waiting, while I listened to the many
voices of the night, near and far.

"Greeting, Untuswa!"

The words seemed to come out of nowhere.  Quickly I looked up, but the
voice was not that of Lalusini!  Then I made out a dark shape--a very
shadow.

"Follow now, holder of the White Shield," it said, and immediately began
to move away.

The voice was that of a woman--soft and pleasing.  Keeping the shadow in
view, yet warily, I moved forward.  Beneath the heavy gloom of trees
overhanging the river bank we moved, and I had quite lost to view my
guide, but at such times her voice would lead me; and at last I found
she had halted at the entrance to a great rift like unto that wherein I
had hid what time Jambula was surprised by the _impi_ in search of me.

My guide signed me to follow, and lo! we were threading our way in
darkness between two great walls of earth.  Then a light shone dully
forth, and there, in a cave formed by the closing of the earth walls
overhead, I beheld a fire.

"Advance now, induna of another King," said the voice of my guide, "for
my errand is done."

Even as I looked round for her she had disappeared.  But raising my eyes
to the lighted space in front I beheld that which made me forget all
else, for before me stood Lalusini.

In the circle of firelight there she stood, a smile of welcome wreathing
her lips, her splendid form erect and tall as when I last saw it
standing to watch me out of sight what time I had started for the Valley
of the Red Death.  There she stood, her hands extended towards me.

"Welcome, Untuswa," she said.  "Thus do we meet once more."

No words did I utter, _Nkose_.  I sprang to her side and we embraced
long and warmly.  Then we sat down to talk, for we had much to say.

"Welcome, Untuswa," she repeated, still holding my hands.  "Welcome,
thou great brave one who would have slain a King who knew not how to
keep faith."

"Ha!  But how didst thou know?"  I cried in amazement.

"What do I not know?  Tell me that," she said, smiling at me.  "Listen;
I saw the midnight struggle in the `great hut' of the _isigodhlo_.  I
saw the dark way along the cliffs of the Inkume.  Was not my _muti_ in
the buck with its fawn that saved thee from the pursuing _impi_ by
showing no alarm, even as the _muti_ upon thy neck saved thee when
Umzilikazi lay prone and stupified?"

"_E-he_! but that is indeed so.  And it was thy _muti_ which saved me
from the hatred of Tambusa and Tola but a few days since," I answered.
"But, tell me now, Lalusini, was not that tale true which was told me by
old Gegesa?"

"It was true so far as she knew.  Ha! when Umzilikazi's slaying dogs
came to hale me forth in the black night, I laughed to myself, for I
knew I had that by which the alligators should not harm me.  I leaped
into the dreadful pool where so many have died--and--came out quietly on
the other side what time those dogs returned to report to Umzilikazi
that the sorceress he hated would trouble him no more; but perhaps in
that they lied--ah, ah, Untuswa, perhaps they lied!  Not for nothing did
that Great One from whom I sprung cause me to be taught the deepest
mysteries of the magic of the wise.  And thyself, Untuswa, through many
wanderings earnest thou here?"

"_Whau_!  Not to thee need I tell of my wanderings, Lalusini, thou to
whom all things are known."  I said.

"And I think among such things are all thy wanderings," she laughed.
"Thou camest here to deliver the Amandebeli into the hand of Dingane."

"That is so, Lalusini; and for thy death the whole House of Matyobane
should have died a thousand deaths.  And now?"

"And now?  We will see what the future may unfold."

Thus we sat and talked on far into the night, and many a question did I
put to Talumni concerning her own wanderings, and how she had first
appeared at Nkunkundhlovu.  I found she had been there before my own
arrival; but when I asked why she had taken another name, and whether
Dingane really believed the account she had given of herself, she said:

"I know not how clear of suspicion is the King's mind, but that it is
not entirely clear let this tell: Never once has the Great Great One
desired that I should become an inmate of the _isigodhlo_.  Now
Dingane's love for handsome women is known to the whole nation, and I--
well I am not quite the least comely of my sex, Untuswa."  This she said
with a playful smile.  "Therefore it may be that he suspects something."

Then I told her about Tambusa, and how his enmity placed me in daily
peril.  Her face clouded somewhat.

"We must suffer him for the present, Untuswa," she said.  "He may be
necessary to me in my plans, and to compass his death would be to
jeopardise those plans.  He and Umhlela are all powerful in the nation,
yet they must remain so for a little longer.  Still, be wary and
cautious, for even the shield of my _muti_ may not always be broad
enough to shelter thee."

The night had fled as we sat thus together--yes, indeed, it had fled--
and now Lalusini bade me leave her and return, so that I might have time
to travel while it was yet dark, and mix with those who were about
outside of Nkunkundhlovu in the morning.  This would be the easier, as
the morning would be a misty one, for which reason, indeed, she had
chosen this night for our meeting.

Thus we parted, and it was arranged that I should not seek her out again
until she sent me word, as before.  She wanted for nothing--there were
those who supplied her wants, and her dwelling-place was safe and
secure.  None dared invade it.

As once more I threaded my way along the river-bank in the darkness, I
sang softly to myself, not in fear, as many of our people do, to keep
away evil ghosts, but in joy.  My beautiful sorceress wife!  _Au_!  Was
there ever another such?--and she seemed to have returned to me from the
dark deeps of the dead.  But with my joy there mingled another thought.
The desire for vengeance seemed to have passed--the longing to deliver
my former nation over to the spears of Dingane seemed wondrously to have
diminished.  I remembered old comradeship--and friends, many and brave,
who had charged with me in close and serried line, shoulder to shoulder,
in the lightning rush of our might as we hurled ourselves on the foe;
who had sprung forward with redoubled courage to the rallying wave of my
white shield; and now it seemed that I desired no longer the destruction
of these.  With the recovery of Lalusini, my rancour against Umzilikazi
even seemed to melt away.  But only to accomplish such destruction had I
been allowed to _konza_ to Dingane, wherefore now I was as one who is
jammed against a tree between the long horns of a fierce and savage
cow--he cannot remain thus for ever, and does he but move, why one horn
or the other must pierce him.  Well, at present, with the Amabuna
threatening us, we had enough to take care of for some time to come.
Umzilikazi could not be attended to until afterwards.

While comforting myself with this thought, something happened.  There
was a rustling in the grass, and a quick patter of feet.  It was the
darkest hour of the night, namely, that which precedes the dawn; but my
eyes, well accustomed to the gloom, could distinguish the swift glide of
fleeing shapes--indeed, a frightened, snarling yelp arose, as one of the
shapes nearly came against me as I stood to listen.  But they fled--
those wild creatures of the night--after the manner of beasts who
disperse when suddenly startled from their prey.

Then there came to my ears a low wail, as the moaning of a woman in
fear, or in pain, perhaps both.



CHAPTER EIGHTEEN.

THE REFUGEES OF THE NGOME.

At first I liked it not, for strange _tagati_ beings are about in the
darkness--half-man, half-beast--who rend those that wander alone at
night.  But even of such I felt no fear then, wherefore I went straight
to the spot whence the sound came; and, ready to use my spear if need
be, called out to know who it was that spoke.

The answer came almost beneath my feet, and in the darkness I could make
out a form lying there.  I bent down and touched it.  It was the form of
a woman.

"Remain by me till dawn," gasped a voice hoarse with pain and fear.
"Those horrible beasts.  They will rend me again.  Oh, kill me, for I
suffer agonies!"

"Who art thou?"  I said, not liking this encounter.

"Nomshasa, the wife of Untuswa," came the feeble answer.

_Whau, Nkose_!  Then, indeed, did I well-nigh leap for amazement.  For
the name was that of one of my Swazi wives--that one who had
mysteriously disappeared, and whom I had never expected to behold again.
Bending over her, I strove, to raise her head; but as I moved her,
though ever so gently, she shrieked.

"Ah--touch me not!  I am torn in pieces.  Those horrible beasts!  Put me
out of my pain.  One blow at the back of the head will do it."

Now the first streak of dawn had begun to lighten the earth, and by it I
could see that what she said was so indeed.  The hyenas which I had
disturbed had indeed begun to devour her, and her body was hideously
torn.  But how had she come into that helpless plight?  Then, by the
fast increasing light, she knew me, and called me by name.

And I, _Nkose_, gazing at her, I was filled with horror.  The whole of
her scalp was one mass of blood, and it seemed as though her skull had
been battered in.  Her elbow joints were smashed and swollen; so too,
were her wrists, and there were marks of frightful burns upon her body.
The marvel was she was alive at all.  I was full of pity for her, for
she had been a handsome and pleasing girl, and during the short time
since the King had given her to me to wife she had always done well by
me.

Now, making a great effort, she told me her tale.  During my absence
against, the Amabuna she had been seized by order of Umhlela, and
questioned as to my doings, but could tell nothing that would go against
me in an accusation of witchcraft.  She was kept a close prisoner in a
hut until the return of Tambusa, when she had been put to the torture to
force her to confess.  They had burned her with fire, had broken her
joints with heavy knob-sticks, and that not on one day, but on many; but
she would say nothing, till at last, losing patience, Tambusa had
ordered her to be thrown outside and knobkerried.  But the slayers had
done their work in bungling fashion, and so she had waited until night
and dragged herself away in the darkness to die alone.  Then, when faint
and too weak to move, the hyenas had fallen upon her.

No, the King could not have known, for it was in order to condemn me
before him that they had tortured her, she said.  But when I asked why
they should have selected her rather than the other two, then, _Nkose_,
came in the old, old tale, the mischief that can be wrought by a woman's
tongue.  That vision which Nomshasa had beheld while asleep at my side
she could not keep to herself.  She had chattered about it, and this
coming to the ears of the two principal indunas who, in their jealous
hatred, were watching my every movement, had put it into their minds to
use her as a means of substantiating a charge of witchcraft against me,
such a charge as Dingane himself would hardly venture to shield me from
the penalty of.  But the poor girl had been heavily punished indeed for
giving way to the weakness of women--the wagging of too long a tongue;
though in her constancy under the torments they heaped upon her she had
shown no weakness at all, but rather the strength and bravery of the
most valiant of warriors; and this I told her.

She was greatly pleased, and a drawn smile came over her face in the
midst of her pain.

"I loved thee, Untuswa," she said, "and I rejoiced when the King gave
me, a captive girl who might have been made a slave, to wife to such a
noted warrior as thou.  And I think thou didst prefer me a little to the
other two, but thou wert ever kind to me, and the torturers might have
torn me into small pieces before I would have let fall one word to harm
thee.  And now I think I were better dead, for there might in time be
others whom thou might prefer to me; yet for a little while I have been
first."

All this was said, not as I have told it to you, _Nkose_, but slowly and
in gasps, and I, well, thinking of Lalusini, it seemed that her words
were those of wisdom, for I had known experience of the jealousy of
women.  Yet I said:

"Thou wouldst ever have lived in great honour, Nomshasa, and have been
counted great among my wives."

"But not greatest--" she said, attempting to smile.  "Yet hearken,
Untuswa, and be warned.  Return not to Nkunkundhlovu, for death awaits
thee there.  There is another great bull of the House of Senzangakona
who would fain roar in this kraal.  Mpande would welcome such a fighter
as thee."

The dawn had now spread, and soon the sun would come forth from behind
the rim of the world.  And now, in the full daylight, the terrible
injuries that poor Nomshasa had received, both from the torturers and
the teeth and claws of the beasts, looked so awful that every living
moment must be to her a moment of intense agony.  She could not live.
She must have seen into my thoughts, for she said:

"It is time to give me rest, Untuswa.  Yet return not to Dingane.  They
who were appointed to slay me jeered me beneath their blows, saying that
before another sun or two set thy shade should join mine.  Wherefore,
flee.  And now--Strike!"

I looked at her, and my heart was heavy with pity and wrath.  Then I
said:

"I will strike indeed, Nomshasa, for thy pain is too great.  Yet let
this lighten it.  When the day of my power comes, be assured that the
pangs of Tambusa and all who bore part in this matter shall be greater
than thine.  Now--art thou ready?"

"I am.  No death could I have preferred to death at thy hand, Untuswa.
Yet, hold my hand in thine unarmed one as the blow falls."

I turned her gently over upon her side, but she groaned with the agony
of it.  Then with my left hand I held hers.  For a moment I looked at
her.  Her eyes were closed, and something like a smile was upon her
face.  I raised my right arm aloft, then with one quick crashing blow
brought the heavy knob-stick down.  It fell, fair--just where the base
of the skull joins the back of the neck.  Her agony was over.  No
shudder even ran through her, so completely, so suddenly had death
overtaken her.

Notwithstanding the warning of Nomshasa, I still took my way in the
direction of Nkunkundhlovu, for I thought I might perhaps gather from
those I should meet whether the danger threatening was very near or not;
whereas by taking a contrary direction it might overtake me suddenly and
unawares, as peril springs out upon one who is blind.  Yet I proceeded
with great caution, so that presently, seeing several men approach,
armed with spears and shields, I dropped out of sight to let them pass.

But soon after them came another--a tall man and ringed.  Him I surveyed
a moment, and recognised Silwane.  But, to my surprise, when I would
have accosted him he turned away, as though not aware of my presence.
This looked strange, but while I was pondering as to what it could mean,
I heard Silwane begin to sing softly to himself.  I listened as the
words grew louder and louder, yet not so as they could have been heard
from afar.  And the words were strange, for he sang of a buffalo-bull
for whom hunters lay in wait, whom their circle had well-nigh closed
around; that the Ngome mountains were wild and broken, full of great
forests and impenetrable hiding-places; and that there, and there only,
had the hunted buffalo fled, that there, and there only, might he be
safe.  So he kept on singing.  To any who heard, he might have been
muttering an ordinary hunting-song, but to me, listening, ah!  I saw his
meaning.  He had not really failed to observe me, but the last thing he
desired was to do so in fact; and now he raised that song in urgent
warning.  Ah! he was a man, indeed, _Nkose_, was that same Silwane; a
valiant fighter when we met in battle in opposite ranks; a true and
faithful brother of the spear now that we had fought side by side.

So I saw through his warning and the advice it conveyed, yet before
acting upon it I would take counsel with Lalusini.  To this end I turned
back, and travelling with great caution, at length I gained the strange
earth cave where she dwelt.

She was surprised when she saw me, and somewhat disturbed.  I told her
all that had occurred--the death of poor Nomshasa and her warning; the
meeting and warning of Silwane.  But when I came to Nomshasa's idea that
I should join in the plots of Mpande she shook her head.

"That will not do, Untuswa.  That will not further my plans at all.
_Au_!  It seems that our places are reversed," she went on, with a
laugh; "but it will not be always so.  I know this people better than
thou dost, and am in a better position to watch and wait, and, if need
be, act.  Now the only way by which Mpande can sit in the seat of
Dingane is with the aid of the Amabuna, and we have no need of these
white invaders.  Here is my counsel, Untuswa.  Flee hence to the Ngome
forests beyond the Black Umfolosi, and lie hidden awhile.  There dwell a
number of men who have sought refuge, and who will welcome thee among
them."

"A wanderer again!  Well, if it must be.  But how is it that these
people, if refugees, are allowed to dwell in the heart of the land
unsought for?"

"Because the King does not really desire their death.  They are made up
of men who have been smelt out by the _izanusi_, and have managed to
escape; others whom the King has doomed, not really meaning that they
should be slain, or the _izinduna_ have plotted to destroy, and who
having been warned in time, fled; also the relatives of these men,
dreading lest the doom should fall upon them also.  Now these men are so
numerous as almost to constitute a tribe in themselves; they are wild
and fierce, but will welcome such another fighter.  That is the only
plan, Untuswa; thou must flee to the Bapongqolo.  Did not even the
warning of Silwane convey that?  Was it not about a hunted buffalo who
found safety in the Ngome forests?"

"That is so, Lalusini," I answered.  "Yet it seems that I have found
thee after all this time of sorrow, only that we must lose sight of each
other immediately."  And I looked at her sadly.

"Patience, Untuswa," she said.  "I am planning to make thee great, that
thou and I together may rule the world.  Say, are we not of the sort who
are born to that end?"  And, coming over to me, she placed both hands
upon my shoulders, looking up into my face; nor had she to look _up_
very much, for, tall as I was, she, for a woman, was of splendid
stature.

"I think, indeed, we are well fitted to rule it," I answered, with
pride.

"Then go now, a wanderer once more, Untuswa, but only for a short while.
Besides, it may be that I will find thee but, even among the fierce
Bapongqolo, from time to time," she added.

"Why, then, go I forth with joy," I answered.  "Farewell, Lalusini.
Delay not to find me out."

She gave me a few things which I might need, food, and a casting-spear
or two, and a large new war-shield--I having come forth with but a small
dancing shield--and thus once more fared I forth a wanderer, a fugitive
from the parent nation, even as from its offshoot.  Verily it seemed as
though I were to find no rest.

Now the undertaking before me was, to a man of my experience and
familiarity with peril, no very great one, for by using ordinary caution
I could always travel unobserved.  I avoided the kraals of men, moving
mostly at night.  Twice I saw in the distance bodies of armed warriors
who might or might not have been in search of me; but these I easily
eluded, though delayed thereby; and the third evening after parting with
Lalusini I was well in among the wildest solitudes of the Ngome forest.

And they were solitudes, _Nkose_.  The great slopes and spurs of the
mountains were covered with dense forest surging up in seas of foliage
against the immense rock walls of the Lebombo mountains.  Below, chasms
and deep ravines through which the mountain streams whimpered, half
hidden beneath the decaying vegetation and rotting tree-trunks of ages.
And of animal life, of bird life, of insect life--_whau_! the air was
never still.  By day the black chasms boomed with the hoarse bark of the
dog-snouted baboons, and at night thundered from cliff to cliff the roar
of the lion.  Birds chattered and piped, and the buzz of insects hung
ever upon the air, but of man and his habitations never a sign.

"Now," thought I, "where are these people of whom Lalusini spoke? for
these solitudes are not altogether to my mind.  I like better not to
dwell alone," But still I wandered through unpeopled forests, seeing no
sign of man, I grew uneasy.  There was abundance of game, easily slain,
too.  Still I desired converse.

This, however, came my way at last, and in right startling manner did it
come.  I had turned the corner of a great rock, where the track I had
been following opened into a grassy glade.  Suddenly there sprang up
right at my feet several men fully armed, who, with a loud shout, called
on me to halt.



CHAPTER NINETEEN.

THE VENGEANCE OF THE REFUGEES.

"An _impi_ sent by Dingane," was my first thought, as I gassed upon the
fierce countenances and the spears poised aloft with threatening flash.

"Who art thou--and whence?" said he who appeared to be the leader, a
tall man and savage of mien.

"Rather, who are ye?"  I answered, with another question, affronted by
the insolent tone employed by the speaker.

"See these," he answered swiftly.  "Speak or die!  You are one man, and
these are several."

"Yet I have fought with several before this day, O Unknown," I retorted,
with a swift movement, throwing up my shield in defence, at the same
time backing towards the rock, so that they could not get round me.  So
I stood ready for a merry fight, for the leader alone would have taken
up all my attention, so tall and strong was he--and there were others.

To my surprise they did not come on.  The leader again spoke.

"Once more, who art thou?  He who wanders in the retreat of the
Bapongqolo must needs give an account of himself."

"_E-he_!" assented the others.

Then I lowered shield and weapons at once.

"I am Untuswa, the son of Ntelani.  Perchance ye have heard of him, ye
who are refugees."

By the look which they exchanged I knew they had heard of me.  Then the
leader said:

"What seek you here, Untuswa, for in truth that is a name which is
known?"

"I seek a refuge among the people who are in refuge," I said.

"Why then, thou art welcome, Untuswa," he replied.  "I am Sifadu, the
son of Kona, and I wielded a sharp spear in the ranks of the
Imbele-bele, of which I was a captain.  But Tola, that jackal-spawned
cheat, did name my father at a witch-finding, and he, being old, died
the death of the black ants; but I and the remainder of his house
escaped--and here we are."

"Tola will name no more, Sifadu," I said.  "The knob-sticks of the
King's slayers have put that form of pleasure beyond his reach."

"He is dead, then!  _Haul_ I am glad, and yet not, for one day I had
promised myself the delight of having him enticed here that he might die
the death my father suffered through him.  I would pay ten cows as the
price of that pleasure--yes, willingly."  And the look on the face of
Sifadu was such that it was perhaps as well for Tola in the long run
that he had died the swift and painless death of the knobstick.

Thus we conversed, Sifadu and I, and as we journeyed I told him and the
others a great deal of what had happened; of the invasion of the
Amabuna, and how we had destroyed many of them.  They had heard
something of this, but I, who had taken part in it, was able to tell
them everything.  But what they especially wanted to know about was the
rumour of plotting in favour of Mpande.  Of this, however, I could not
tell them much, because I knew but little myself.

The principal place of the Bapongqolo consisted not of one large kraal,
but a number of small ones; and so scattered were these, and so
carefully hidden, away in the dense forest which covered the slopes of a
vast hollow or bowl, that it would be well-nigh impossible to strike
them all at one blow; and to this end was such concealment planned.
Impossible, too, would it have been for any considerable number of men
to have penetrated the hollow without their advance having been long
since known to the inhabitants, so dense and rock-strewn were the
approaches; and, indeed, all such were under the observation of small
outpost kraals, which served the purposes of pickets.

I gathered that these refugees were counted by hundreds.  They were of
all ages, from quite old men down to boys.  Most of them, however, were
middle-aged men in their prime; but whether the fact of being refugees
kept them ever on the alert, all had a quick, ready, and fearless look,
together with fine and well-knit frames, that stamped them as a warrior
clan of no contemptible strength.  And to Sifadu all seemed to look up
as to a recognised chief.

Of this Sifadu I knew not quite what to make.  He was friendly at first,
but as time went by he seemed to look at me with jealous and suspicious
eyes, as though he thought that a man of my standing and prowess would
hardly be content with the position of one among many, wherein he was
right, perhaps.  Of one thing, however, I was certain.  Did I or any
other man desire the chieftainship of these outlaws Sifadu would first
have to be dead.

For the present, however, I had no such thoughts.  I was content to
dwell quietly and unmolested, and await the turn events might take.  So,
as time went by, I seemed to have become as one of the Bapongqolo.
Together we hunted the wild game of the forest--together we made
descents in search of plunder into the Swazi country or the lands of the
Amatonga, or levied tribute from the kraals lying beyond the outskirts
of our own fastnesses; and so feared were we that none thought of
resistance or retaliation.

"Of a truth, Untuswa, the day might come when Dingane himself would be
glad to join us," said Sifadu to me, as we were returning from one of
these forays.  "With our help, even we might save him his seat.  Then
should we not be among the highest of the nation?  Then would there not
be some who might groan aloud because the son of Kona had returned?"

Such a thought as this had been in my own mind, but I desired not to
foster it in that of others, at least, not until I had determined upon
my own plans; so to Sifadu I replied lightly on the matter, treating it
as of no importance.

Lalusini had kept her word, and twice had arranged that we should meet
and hold long converse together.  But on the second of these occasions
her news was great.  The Amabuna had crossed the Tugela in great force,
intending to march upon Nkunkundhlovu.  There had been a tremendous
battle, but the army of Dingane had defeated them and had driven them
back; and but for their horses would have stamped them out entirely.
Then the English at Tegwini had undertaken to interfere in this quarrel,
and had crossed the Tugela with a large _impi_ of Amakafula.  These,
however, got no further than the bank of the Tugela, for the King's
warriors made meat of that _impi_ until the river ran red with their
blood; and, in his wrath and disgust at this breach of faith on the part
of the whites at Tegwini, Dingane sent an _impi_ there to eat them up,
too.  _Whau_! and they would have been eaten up but that they took to
the water--took refuge on a ship that was there--for these whites,
_Nkose_, had no business to interfere in a quarrel which concerned them
not.  They were not of the blood of the Amabuna, and they had ever been
treated as friends by the house of Senzangakona since the great Tshaka
had allowed them the use of the lands on which they then dwelt.  So they
were rightly served.

Now all these tales of war and of great battles fired my blood, for I
would fain have been in them; yet here I was, hiding away as a fugitive.
But when I would have boldly returned, craving only that Dingane would
allow me to wield a spear in the ranks of his troops, Lalusini dissuaded
me.  The hostility of Tambusa and Umhlela burned as hot against me as
ever, and indeed I had fled not any too soon.  She bade me wait.  She
herself was high in favour with the King by reason of the victories
which had attended the Zulu arms, for she had foretold them.

Not without risk did I thus meet Lalusini.  I could not reveal the real
relationship between us, and the suspicions of the fierce Bapongqolo
once fairly aroused, I might be slain suddenly and without warning, and
no opportunity given me of explanation or self-defence.  Indeed, after
the first time, I thought I noticed a frost of suspiciousness in the
converse of those people towards me as we sat around our fires at night.
But the second time something so unlooked for happened that it gave
them all something else to think about.

Lalusini had finished telling me all there was of news when, of a
sudden, her manner became strange and suspicious.

"We are being watched, Untuswa," she said quietly.

"Watched?  Why then, it will be bad--ah, very bad--for the watcher."

And hardly had the words escaped me than I darted from her side.  I
hurled myself through the thickness of the bush, but something was
already crashing through it away from me.  I made out the form of a man.

"Now, stop!"  I cried--a casting assegai poised for a throw.  "Stop! or
I cleave thee to the heart."

I was about to hurl the spear fair between the shoulders of the fleeing
man--who was now not many paces in front--when he stopped suddenly.  I
went at him.  He turned round and faced me, a glare of hate and fury in
his eyes that seemed to scorch--to burn.  And I--_Whau_!  I stood as one
suddenly turned to stone, the uplifted assegai powerless in my stiffened
grasp.  For the face was that of a ghost--the dreadful glare of hate and
fury that paralysed me was upon the face of a ghost.  I was gazing upon
one whom I had seen slain, whom my own eyes had beheld clubbed to death
by the King's slayers--Tola, the chief of the witch doctors.

We stood for a moment thus, motionless, I gazing upon the horrible form
of one I knew to be dead, as it stood there, shadowed in the gloom of
the trees.  Then, slowly raising an arm, the voice came, deep and
hollow--

"Retire--or I put that upon thee which shall blast and wither thy heart
and turn to water thy courage; which shall change the most valiant of
fighting-men into the most cowardly of women."

Awful as were the words, the effect upon me was not that intended.  He
had better have kept silence, for now I knew him to be alive, and I
sprang upon him.  He had a spear, and struck furiously at me with it;
but I turned the blow, and then we closed.  He fought and bit and
kicked, and, powerful as I was, the lithe and slippery witch doctor for
long defied my efforts to secure him, for I was anxious to take him
alive.  At last it seemed I should be obliged to kill him, when
something was dropped over his head which, the next moment, was rolled
round and round in a thick covering of stuff.  It was Lalusini's
blanket.  She had come to my aid just at the right time.  We had no
difficulty in securing him now, and with strips cut from his own skin
cloak we bound his hands firmly behind him, and his feet.  Then we
removed the blanket.

"Greeting, Tola!"  I said.  "I thought thou wert dead; but I had
forgotten, a great _izanusi_ such as thou could not die, which is well,
for not far off is one who longeth to welcome thee."

"Have a care, Untuswa, have a care," he snarled.  "Dost thou not fear?"

"Why, no," I answered.  "The _muti_ which protects me is greater than
any which can be turned against me.  But thou, what canst thou fear, O
great _izanusi_ who cannot die?"

I was but mocking him, _Nkose_, for now I saw through the plot.  He had
purposely been allowed to escape in the turmoil what time all the other
_izanusi_ had been slain; and I laughed at myself for my fears on first
beholding him.

We left Tola lying there helpless; and, removing a little distance, we
said out all we had to say.  Then we took leave of each other.

"Use care, Untuswa, for it is that man's life or thine," said Lalusini,
as we parted.  "On no account let him escape."

"Have no fear as to that, Lalusini," I answered.  "There is one who will
take even better care of him than I could."

When she had gone I unbound Tola's ankles, and told him to walk.  Now,
seeing himself in my power, he began to talk fair.  He promised to do
all for me if I would but let him go--to rid me of my enemies, to make
me the greatest man, next to the King.  But I only mocked him.

"A live _izanusi_ may do great things," I said.  "But a dead
_izanusi_--_whau_!--of what use is he?  And, Tola, I seem to remember
that thou art dead--dead by order of the Great Great One.  How then
canst thou serve me?"

Then he began on another story.  He could teach me things--could reveal
mysteries which would render me all-powerful against every form of harm.
But I only laughed at this, saying that he would soon have an
opportunity of testing his powers in his own favour; and thus, ever with
a watchful eye upon him, we travelled on together until we entered the
hollow where were the kraals of the Bapongqolo.

"There are many here who will give thee warm greeting, chief of the
_izanusi_," I said.  "Some even, upon whom thou hast looked before."

Now people began to crowd around us, and, recognising my prisoner,
shouts of hatred and threats were hurled at him.  They would have torn
him from me, but I restrained them.

"Go, call Sifadu," I said.  "I have brought him a long-desired guest."

At the mention of Sifadu's name the terror stamped upon the face of Tola
was frightful to behold.  We, standing around, enjoyed this, for
scarcely a man there but had seen some relative haled to the place of
doom at the bidding of this hyena; some indeed to writhe in torment for
long before they died.  Then Tola, foaming at the mouth, rolled on the
ground in convulsions; but for this they cared nothing, as a mere
witch-finding trick.  They pricked him with their assegais until he came
to again, roaring with laughter the while.  And as he came to again,
Sifadu appeared.

"Welcome, Tola," he cried.  "Welcome!  We have long awaited thee.  Ha,
and a right warm welcome shall be thine, ah, ah! a right warm welcome."

And thrusting his face close to that of the witch doctor he gnashed his
teeth in a grin of such hardly-to-be-restrained fury that I thought he
would have seized the other with his churning jaws like a beast.

"Welcome, Tola," he went on.  "A warm welcome to thee, in the name of
all my house whom thou didst eat up.  _Whau_!  There were my two young
wives.  How nicely their tender limbs shrivelled and burned as they died
the death of the hot stones as witches, smelt out by thee Tola--by thee,
Tola--thou prince of smellers out!" and with the two repetitions he
sliced off the witch doctor's ears with the keen blade of his broad
assegai.  A frightful howl escaped the sufferer.

"Then there was my mother and another of my father's wives; they were
lashed to death with switches to make them confess--by thy orders.
Tola.  _Haul_ Does this feel good--and this--and this?"  And he lashed
the prisoner's naked body with a green hide thong until the air rang
with screams.

"Then there was my father, Kona.  He was eaten by black ants--at thy
word, Tola--by black ants.  It took nearly a day for him to die in that
torment, raving and roaring as a madman.  And now I think this shall be
thine own end.  _Whau_!  The black ants--the good black ants--the fierce
black ants--the hungry black ants.  They shall be fed--they shall be
fed."

Now, _Nkose_, looking at Sifadu, I thought he came very near being a
madman at that moment, so intense was his hate and fury, so difficult
the restraint he put upon himself not to hack the vile witch doctor into
pieces there and then with his own hand.  He foamed at the month, he
ground his teeth, his very eyeballs seemed about to roll from their
sockets.  But the face of Tola, ah! never did I see such terror upon
that of any living man.  The crowd, looking on, roared like lions,
stifling Sifadu's voice.  They called to him the death of relatives--of
fathers, of brothers, of wives, all of whose deaths lay at the doors of
the _izanusi_.  They wished that this one had a hundred lives that they
might take a hundred days in killing him.  There were several nests of
black ants at no distance.  Then somebody cried out that there was a
particularly large one under a certain tree.

"Under a tree!" cried Sifadu.  "Ha.  I have an idea!  Bring him along."

They flung themselves upon Tola, whose wild howling was completely
drowned by the ferocious yells of the crowd.  But as they were dragging
him roughly over the ground Sifadu interposed.

"_Gahle_, brothers.  Do not bruise him.  The ants like their meat
uninjured."

Amid roars of delight the miserable wretch was dragged to the place of
torment.  Already some had knocked the top off the ants' nest, and were
stirring it with sticks to infuriate the insects.  Right over the nest
grew a long bough a little more than the height of a tall man from the
ground.  Now Sifadu's idea took shape.

A wedge of wood was inserted between the victim's teeth.  This had the
effect of holding his jaws wide open, nor by any effort could he
dislodge the gag.  Then his ankles being strongly bound together, he was
hoisted up to the branch above, and left hanging by the feet, so that
his head and gaping mouth just touched the broken top of the ant heap.
Then as he writhed and twisted and howled in his agony--for the
infuriated insects swarmed all over him--into his nostrils, mouth,
severed ears, everywhere--the Bapongqolo crowded around gloating over
his torments, and shouting into his ears the names of those whom he
himself had doomed to a like torment.  It was long indeed before he
died, but though I have seen many a terrible form of death, never did I
see any man suffer as did this one.  And yet, _Nkose_, it was just that
he should, for had not he himself been the means of dooming many
innocent persons to that very death?  Wherefore the revenge of the
refugees was a meet and a just one.



CHAPTER TWENTY.

THE BAPONGQOLO RETURN.

Notwithstanding that I, and I alone, had brought to him his bitterest
enemy to be dealt with, Sifadu's manner towards me became, as time went
on, more and more one of suspicion and distrust.  He feared lest I
should desire the chieftainship of this refugee clan; for by this time I
was as completely one of themselves as he was, and he thought, perhaps
rightly, that a man who had once commanded the fighting force of a great
warrior nation was not likely to be content to remain for ever a mere
nobody.

But this attitude taken up by Sifadu compelled me to do the very thing
which he desired least, and that in self-defence.  I laboured to create
a following, and before I had been many moons among them I had attached
fully half the outlaws to myself.  Further, I knew that in the event of
a quarrel between us I could count upon even more, for Sifadu was but
indifferently liked.  His bravery was beyond suspicion; indeed, it was
through fear of his prowess that none disputed his supremacy.  But he
was of a quarrelsome disposition, fierce and terrible when roused, and
had a sullen and gloomy mind; whereas I, for my part, have ever got on
well among fighting-men, and as for gloomy thoughts, _whau_! they are
the worst kind of _muti_, worse than useless indeed.  True, I who once
had been among the first of a great nation was now an outlaw and an
exile from two great nations; but men's fortunes change, and it might
well be that in the near future my serpent would remember me, and my
place be higher than ever--indeed I dared not think how high.

News at length reached us of another great battle.  The Amabuna had
again advanced upon Nkunkundhlovu, but before they could reach it a
large _impi_ sent by Dingane had reached them.  _Whau_! that was a
fight, said our informants.  The Amabuna had drawn their waggons
together, as their manner is, and the Amazulu strove for half a day to
carry their camp with a rush.  But it was of no use.  The long guns shot
hard and quick, and when the _impi_ got almost within striking distance,
and would have swarmed over the waggons, the Amabuna loaded their guns
with several small bullets at a time, instead of only one, and our
warriors went down in heaps.  They could not stand against it, and this
time a tale of defeat was brought back to the King.

Now the Amabuna, quick to take advantage of their success, pressed on
immediately.  But Dingane this time did not wait for them.  He was
warned that his brother, Mpande, was plotting against him, and he knew
better than to be caught between the Amabuna on one side and his own
rebellious people on the other.  So he had decided to retire.

This was the news which reached us in our retreat, and whereas this
would be the tract of country for which the King would make, it would be
our retreat no longer.  So we were forced to take a line.

Now, Sifadu's plan was to hand over the whole band of refugees to
Mpande, whose emissaries had been among us of late trying to win us over
to the side of that prince.  But my mind on the matter was different.  I
had no great opinion of Mpande, whereas Dingane was a real King--one to
whom it was good to _konza_.  My flight had been due to the hostility
and intriguing of Tambusa, not to the displeasure of the King; and, now
that the Great Great One was sore pressed by his enemies, I desired to
wield a spear in defence of him.  On this matter, too, Lalusini, whom I
saw from time to time, was of the same mind as myself, though at that
time she would not open her mind to me freely, bidding me, with a smile,
to be still and wait.

Soon Sifadu, having his plans ready, called a council of the Bapongqolo
to make known to the clan at large what he expected of it.  The warriors
came, several hundreds of them, in full war adornments, and fully armed,
and Sifadu addressed them in a long speech.  He recalled how it was that
they came to be there, living the life of exiles and outcasts.  He
reminded them of their relatives slain, their houses stamped flat, their
cattle seized to swell the herds of Dingane.  The miserable cheat, Tola,
whose bones lay broken and scattered around the nest of the black ants,
in which they had put him to a just death, was only the mouthpiece of
Dingane; the real oppressor was the King himself.  Now, would they put
themselves beneath the foot of such a King as that when they might
obtain revenge for their wrongs, and at the same time lead a quiet life
by doing _konza_ to one who had promised them immunity and reward if
they aided him now?  But they must do this quickly for their own sakes,
for their former oppressor with what remained of his army would be upon
them in their retreat immediately.

Thus spoke Sifadu, but his words, and the words of others who argued in
like manner, were not received as he intended.  By more than half of
those assembled they were received in silence.  The old instinct of
trained and disciplined warriors rendered these averse to turning
against the King, especially so great a king as Dingane.  Besides, it
was by no means certain that even a combination of both forces against
him would be attended with success.  Then, too, they could not bring
themselves to enter into alliance with the Amabuna.

Then I spoke.  I pointed out that there were several hundreds of us--all
good fighting-men--that if we all went in to offer our spears to the
King, he, being pressed by enemies, would right gladly receive us.  So
should we all regain our place in the nation, and be outlaws no longer.

As I went on, the murmurs of assent which greeted my words grew into
shouts.  The people had long been tired of their runaway state, and here
was a chance to set themselves right.  They were also not a little tired
of the rule of Sifadu.

This Sifadu saw, and leaping up, his countenance ablaze with fury, he
came at me, his great spear aloft.  So quickly was it done that I had
barely time to throw up my shield.  So powerful the blow that the blade
pierced the tough bull-hide and stuck fast.  Then Sifadu, following up
his attack in swift fury, struck over my shield with his knob-stick.  It
was a terrible blow, and partly reached me.  I felt half stunned, but
infuriate with the pain.  So, with a shout, I quit defence and went at
Sifadu with a will.

A frightful commotion now arose.  The friends of Sifadu would have
rushed to his aid, but that they saw that those favourable to me were
more numerous.  These sprung to meet them, and all being fully armed it
looked as though a bloody battle was about to be fought.  But some cried
aloud against interference, saying that the two of as should strive for
the mastery, and to this counsel I added my voice.  Sifadu, though, had
no voice save to growl and grind his teeth like a maddened beast.

So we fought, we two--none hindering.  Our shields flapped together, and
for a moment we were immovable--pressing each other equally hard--each
striving to run in under the guard of the other.  Then the
spear-blades--Sifadu having disentangled his--would flash and glance
like threads of fire as we leaped and feinted--yet neither of us able to
drive home either stroke or stab.  A silence had fallen upon the
onlookers now, and every head was bent eagerly forward.  All this I
could see, while never taking my gaze from my enemy.

At last my chance came.  Pretending to stumble, I threw myself forward,
and with one swift sweep of my assegai I sheared through Sifadu's leg,
gashing the thigh to the bone.  He sank to the earth uttering a terrible
howl.  All the muscles were divided--from the principal blood-vessels
red jets were spurting.  _Whau_!  He was in a sea of it.  But even then,
weakening each moment, he gathered strength to hurl his great knobstick
at my face.  I was prepared for this, however, and caught it on my
shield; nor did I hurry to run in and finish him, knowing that while he
could move a finger he would still gather himself together for one last
desperate slash at me.

"_Hamba-gahle_, Sifadu," I said--not mocking him.  "This quarrel was not
of my seeking, but the son of Ntelani never yet refused a fight."

He made no reply, glaring at me in hate until very soon he sank down
into unconsciousness and death.  And all the warriors shouted in assent
of my words, save some few--near friends of Sifadu; but for them I cared
nothing.  And presently some of the older among them came to me, and we
talked.  We agreed to carry out my plan of returning to the nation, and
that at once.

"_Whau_, Untuswa!  Thou hast commanded men from thy youth; it is fitting
that thou shouldst be our leader now," said one of them, after he had
talked.  "Say I not well, brothers?" turning to the rest.

"_E-he!  Siyavuma_!"  ["We consent"] they cried as one man.  Thus,
_Nkose_, I became chief of the Bapongqolo, the tribe of the Wanderers;
but, in truth, the honour might be brief, indeed, for it might please
the King to make a quick end both of chief and tribe.

Now that we had thus decided, we sent out men to find out how things
were going between Dingane and the enemy, and from their report we
judged that the time had arrived to come in and lie beneath the foot of
the Elephant.  The Bapongqolo women were left in concealment in the
recesses of the Ngome forests, while we, to the number of several
hundreds, marched forth.

Before we crossed the White Umfolosi, I and other of the principal of
the refugees climbed to the heights overlooking the Mahlabatini plain.
It was somewhat early in the morning, but the brightness of the new day
was dimmed--dimmed by a great cloud.  Far away to the southward it rose,
that cloud--thicker and thicker, higher and higher--a great dull pillar
of smoke.  Nkunkundhlovu was in flames.

Through the thickness of the smoke-cloud we could see the red leap of
the fire.  Then was amazement our master.  Had the Amabuna gained a
victory--so great a victory that they had been able to penetrate to the
Great Place of the Elephant whose tread shaketh the world?  _Whau_! it
could not be.  The marvel was too great.

But as we looked, lo! over the rise which lay back from the river came
dense black masses--masses of men--of warriors--for in the morning
sunlight we could see the glint of their spears.  They moved in regular
rank, marching in columns, in perfect order.  In perfect order!  There
lay the whole situation.  This was no defeat.  The Great Great One, for
reasons of his own, had fired Nkunkundhlovu before retreating.

Nearer they drew, those masses of warriors--on, on--rank upon rank of
them.  We saw them enter the river and cross, and for long it seemed
that the flood of the river must be arrested in its run, so vast were
the numbers that blackened it as they crossed.  Our blood burned within
us at the sight of this splendid array.  We longed to be among them,
bearing our part as men.  We had had more than enough of skulking like
hunted leopards.

"Ho, Siyonyoba!"  I cried to the second leader of the refugees.  "Form
up our spears in rank, that we go down now and throw in our lot with
these."

Right down we went.  The black might of our retreating nation was
halting now, rolling up in waves; and there, on the very spot where we
were finally repulsed by you English in the battle of Nodwengu, _Nkose_,
when we thought to eat up your red square of soldiers, there did we
wanderers, whose lives were forfeit, bring our lives in our hands to lay
them at the feet of the King.

[The battle historically known to us as that of Ulundi is always termed
by the Zulus the battle of Nodwengu, because fought nearest to the kraal
of that name.]

I had sent on men in advance to announce our arrival, and now, as we
drew near, the army opened on either side of us so as to leave us a
broad road.

A dead silence lay upon the whole dense array.  I gave one glance back
at those I led--led, it might be, to their death.  Truly, a more
warrior-like band never desired to serve any King.  Their fugitive life
had hardened the Bapongqolo.  Even the picked regiments of Dingane's
army could not surpass them for hardihood and uprightness of bearing;
and though we were probably going to our death, my blood thrilled with
pride that I was the elected leader of so splendid a band.

I gave a signal, and striking their shields in measure as they marched,
the Bapongqolo raised a great song in praise of Dingane:

  "There hovers aloft a bird,
  An eagle of war,
  In circles and swoop
  It floats above the world.
  The eye of that eagle
  Would burn up the world.
  But the world is allowed to live.
  So clement, so merciful, is that eagle who restrains his wrath.
  He retires but to swoop and strike again.
  _Hau_!  The enemies of that war-eagle
      shall melt away like yonder smoke.
  A vulture who devours the flesh of men;
  So is that bird.
  Yonder is flesh that he shall presently eat.
  So great is he,
  He retires but to swoop and strike again."

So our song thundered forth as we marched straight onward.  I gave
another signal.  Immediately every shield and weapon fell to the ground
with one crash, and advancing nearer weaponless, we bent low, a forest
of heads, and from every tongue in one roar there ascended the
"_Bayete_."  For we were now in the presence of the King.

In stern silence Dingane sat gazing upon us.  Then he, too, gave a
signal.  Immediately an armed regiment moved across our rear.  Between
us and the weapons we had thrown down stood a wall of armed men, and in
this I read our sentence of death.  We had risked our chance and had
foiled.  By my counsels, I had led these hundreds of brave men to their
doom.



CHAPTER TWENTY ONE.

THE EMBASSY OF TAMBUSA.

"What do I see?  Untuswa, the wanderer?  Untuswa, who fled from the
north to _konza_ to another King?  Ha!  Greeting, Untuswa, for it seems
long since we have beheld thee."

So spake Dingane, softly, flatteringly, even as Umzilikazi was wont to
do what time the stake or the alligators were preparing for somebody,
and I indeed felt dead already.

"And these," went on the King, bending his stern gaze upon my following.
"A warrior-like band indeed, and it seems a pity to slay such, yet must
they all die."

This he said almost to himself, else had the slayers been at work
already.  And I--the boldness of desperation came into me then.

"We are the King's cattle," I said.  "We are here to place our lives
beneath the foot of the Elephant.  Yet, O Ruler of the World, there are
some who should taste the goring of our horns.  We are the King's
fighting-bulls.  And, Great Great One, suffer us ere we die to spill
once more the blood of the King's enemies."

"Yet, Untuswa, it sometimes happens that fighting-bulls, growing mad,
turn and gore their owners.  They had better have been slain first,"
said Dingane, with dark suspicion in his tone.

Now I saw what was to be done, though I hardly knew what to say.

"I would ask the Great Great One wherefore these are here at all, but
that they may drink the blood of the King's enemies?"  I urged, amazed
at my own boldness.  "Were they here for any other purpose, why then
they were already dead, Father of the Wise.  _Au_! they seek but to die
in the ranks of those who fight.  That is all, Calf of a Black Bull."

And they on whose behalf I spoke uttered a great murmur of assent,
together with words of _bonga_ and the King's titles.

Then I saw Dingane whisper to one who sat near him, and this one
retired.  _Whau_! that was a moment.  We who sat there seemed already
dead.  Around crouched the two immense half circles of armed warriors,
their shields lying on the ground before them--all in dead silence--and
in his great chair made out of the carved trunk of a tree, the great
white shield held aloft at the back of his head, the King sat, silent,
stern, gloomy looking.  His attitude was that of one who waited.  Waited
for what?  For the carrying out of his order decreeing, our death?

Then some new event was astir.  There stood before the King a woman.
Now my followers dared to breathe again, and the sound went up from
every chest like a sob of relief.  And seeing who the woman was, my own
relief became greater still, for she was my sorceress-wife.

"Hearken, Mahlula," said the King.  "See you these?"

"I see them, Great Great One," she answered, sweeping a majestic glance
over us.  "They are those known as the Bapongqolo.  They are here to lay
their lives beneath the foot of the Elephant, and to crave the right to
die fighting for him."

"And how dost thou know that, my sister?" said Dingane suspiciously.

"It is easily known, Father of the Wise, and that not even by my
_muti_," she answered.  "There are many among them known by name, and
all have the look of forest-dwellers.  And he at their head, look at
him."

"Ha!  And is it for good or for ill that they are here?"

"For good, Ruler of the Great.  For these are fine wielders of the
spear.  And they are many," she answered.

"That is well," said Dingane.  "You wanderers, I give you your lives.
You shall join these lion-cubs, and plenty of prey lies awaiting your
teeth."

For some moments, _Nkose_, the roar that went up from all men's throats
would seem about to split the world, for to the praises rolled forth
from those who were thus spared was added the _bonga_ of the whole army.

"Now talk we of Untuswa," said the King, when this had quieted down.
"There is that about him which I like not entirely.  What of him,
Mahlula?"

She looked at me long and earnestly, as though she had never seen me
before, but in her sweet eyes I read hope and courage.  Then she said:

"I think he is a born leader of warriors, Great Great One."

"Ha!  Now shalt thou have a chance of showing thy powers, Mahlula," said
the King.  "Thou, Untuswa," pointing at me with his assegai, "shalt also
be put to the proof.  I name these the Bapongqolo, and of this regiment
I create thee _induna_, for I have not yet known the predictions of
Mahlula to prove false.  Retire now with thy men and form them up among
those yonder."

They who had custodied us now fell back, and as we all gathered up our
weapons again we thundered forth the war-song of Dingane.  Then, when we
had formed up at the place pointed out to as, in truth it seemed that
the army had received a most valuable addition in ourselves.  Then
dancing was ordered, and the slaughter of cattle, and there was much
feasting.

Now during an earlier part of the war the Amabuna had sent messages to
Dingane proposing peace, and to such the King had listened.  Trouble was
threatening at home, for Mpande, the brother of Dingane, was still
plotting, and had by now collected a considerable following.  Further,
the Amabuna were increasing in strength, numbers having crossed the
mountains to join them; moreover, several of the tribes who did _konza_
to the royal House had forgotten their tribute, sheltering themselves
behind the Amabuna.  So Dingane had listened to the peace proposals of
the Amabuna, and had agreed to pay nearly twenty thousand cattle, and to
return the guns and horses taken at Nkunkundhlovu.  For a space then
there was peace.  The Amabuna did not even want the cattle just then;
they would rather we should herd them for the time being.  So far good.

But one day there came news.  Mpande had crossed the Tugela and had fled
to the Amabuna, declaring that he feared for his life.  _Au_! and long
since he would have owned no life to fear for, had the King but listened
to the counsels of Tambusa, who would have caused him to be slain.  But
it was too late now, and already Dingane had reason to repent him of his
mercy, for now that Mpande had promised them to divide the nation the
Amabuna, ignoring all former promises and arrangements, sent word to
Dingane demanding from him double the number of cattle at first agreed
upon, and without even awaiting his reply they prepared to advance upon
Nkunkundhlovu.

Not for nothing had Mpande plotted.  He had gained over to his cause
Nongalaza, an induna of importance.  Nongalaza was old, and suffered
from swollen limbs; but he was a skilled and courageous commander, and
he took with him to the side of Mpande and the Amabuna the strength of
four full regiments.

Now Dingane sent an embassy to the leaders of the Amabuna, and the
induna he chose as his "mouth" was Tambusa.  He had better have chosen
some other messenger--better for Tambusa, but not better for me,
_Nkose_, for it was during Tambusa's absence that I and the Bapongqolo
arrived to place our lives in the hand of the King.

This, then, is what was happening at that time within the camp of the
Amabuna, and the tale I have from the mouths of several among those who
had fled with Mpande and who witnessed that which was now done.

Tambusa entered the camp of the Amabuna attended by Nkombazana, one of
his own followers.  He was received but coldly by the Amabuna.  Why had
they broken faith with the Great Great One who sits at Nkunkundhlovu? he
asked.  They had demanded twice the number of cattle at first agreed
upon.  They were preparing to invade the country, and had declared their
intention of setting up Mpande as King, having deposed Dingane.  Who
were they who took to themselves the right to make and unmake Kings for
the Zulu nation? asked Tambusa, proud and defiant.  Dingane was King of
the Zulu nation, and as King he would live and die.

"Ah! die perhaps, that is right," said one of the Amabuna, with an evil
laugh.

"A King of the Amazulu does not die of words nor of fear," replied
Tambusa, fiercely scornful.  "Yet hearken to my message, even the `word'
of the Great Great One, whose mouth I am.  Thus he speaks: `We made an
agreement, have I not kept it?  I have returned the guns and horses I
promised; I have sent in part of the cattle I promised, I would have
sent in all, but you preferred to leave the remainder with me for the
present.  Well, it is there, send and take it, or shall I send it in?
Now you demand twice the number, and this I do not understand.  Now you
prepare to invade us in armed force, and threaten to make Mpande King in
my place.  This also I do not understand, and have sent my induna,
Tambusa, as my "mouth" to say so.  He is also my "ears," and will listen
to and bring back your words to me.'  Thus spoke the Great Great One by
whose light we live."

"Ha!  The Great Great One by whose light we live!" jeered some of the
Amabuna.  "A Great Great murderer, who shall soon die."

To this Tambusa made no reply.  His head was proudly erect, on his face
a sneer of hate and scorn such as he could hardly conceal.  Then the
chief of the Amabuna spoke:

"To you we have nothing to say.  To your captain"--for so he designated
the King--"we have nothing to say.  When the time comes we shall act,
and come it will, very soon."

"We, too, know how to act," answered Tambusa.  "_Hlalani gahle_!  I
retire."

He turned to leave--turned, to find a line of guns pointed full upon him
at but a few paces distant.

"Halt--Kafir!"

The tone, the insult, the scowl on the shaggy faces which glared at him
from under their wide-brimmed hats, roused all the savage fighting blood
in Tambusa, and those who beheld him say that the great veins in his
forehead swelled until they seemed about to burst with the pressure of
his head-ring.  "Kafir!"  Thus these refuse whites dared to address the
chief induna of the royal race of Zulu, second only in greatness to the
King himself!  But he was helpless, for, as a peace ambassador, he had
of course been obliged to lay down his arms on entering the camp.

Now he turned to the leaders of the Amabuna, who were talking with their
heads together.

"See you this?" he said, waving his hand towards the line of men who
stood threatening him with their guns.  "See you this?  I, a peace
messenger, am insulted and threatened.  I, a peace messenger, am
detained, when I would depart as I came.  In truth, it is not good to
trust to the good faith of the Amabuna."

"In truth it is not good to trust to the good faith of the Amazulu,"
answered the leader sternly.  "Say, were not our people peace
messengers--our people whose bones lie outside Nkunkundhlovu--who
trusted in the good faith of that murderer, your chief?"

"Ha!  But you?  You are a holy people--a people of God, you told the
King.  We are only poor, ignorant black people," said Tambusa, taunting
them, in his scornful wrath.

"But there is a God of justice," quickly replied the leader, "and He has
delivered you into our hands to be dealt with as one of the chief
murderers of our people.  The others He will deliver to us in time.  But
enough of that.  This is the matter now.  The treacherous and cruel
murder of our people at Nkunkundhlovu was counselled by you, Tambusa.
By you it was planned and arranged, by your orders it was carried out.
What have you to say?"

"That is not the matter about which I am here," replied the induna.  "If
ye would have me answer on that matter, ye should have sent men to bring
me here, if they could have done it.  It is a matter as to which now I
will say no word."

"That is perhaps as well," answered the leader, "for here we have enough
to prove your guilt over and over again."  And with the words Tambusa
saw the trap into which he had walked.  Mpande had denounced him to the
Amabuna--Mpande, whose death he had repeatedly counselled.  He was as
good as dead.  Yet he only smiled, rearing his tall and stately form to
its full height, and the smile was one of hatred and scorn and contempt.
But so deeply did it sting those Amabuna that they broke forth into
curses, and some of them, rising from their seats, shook their fists in
his face, crowding around him, and fairly howling with rage, all talking
at once as they heaped every abusive name upon him, the King and the
whole Zulu race.  But the smile of contempt and scorn only deepened on
the face of Tambusa as he stood therein his great stature like some
mighty tree, while they snarled and leaped around him like jackals.  At
last he who sat at the head of the council succeeded in quieting them.

"Then you have nothing to say--no reason to urge why the punishment of
death should not be dealt out to you?" said this man, speaking solemnly.
"There may be others, perhaps--others more guilty than yourself.  If
there is anything you can tell us--"

But here he stopped, for Tambusa had interrupted him by a loud, harsh
laugh, so fierce that it sounded like a war-cry.

"Others?  Anything I can tell you?" he repeated, with a very roar.  "I,
an induna of the right hand of the Great King, to give _you_
information!  _Whau_! ye must be madmen.  Not to save a hundred lives
would I give you information as to even the youngest boy just enrolled
among those who bear shields.  Do I fear death--I, Tambusa?  Why, I
stare it in the face every day.  And I think, _Ntshwai-ntshwai_, when
death has been the game some of you must have seen my face before."

[Ntshwai-ntshwai.  A nickname bestowed upon the Boers by the Zulus,
being in fact an imitation of the swishing sound of their wide leather
breeches as they moved.]

"He confesses!" cried those standing around.  "Enough--enough.  Let him
be shot."

The leader of the council, having obtained silence, spoke:

"On your own showing, Tambusa, you are guilty of counselling and
planning the cruel and treacherous murder of our brothers at
Nkunkundhlovu while they were at that place by the invitation of the
King and Zulu nation.  They were set upon and slain in cold blood while
partaking of Zulu hospitality; and for your share in this unprovoked and
abominable massacre this council adjudges you, Tambusa, to suffer death;
and that, in execution of this sentence, you be taken outside the camp
and forthwith shot."

There was a deep silence as the leader ceased speaking.  It was broken
by the voice of Tambusa:

"I, too, have something to say."

All started.  Would this braggart, they thought, turn coward, and
endeavour at the last moment to save his life?  Ah, they little knew.

"Speak, then," said the leader.  "But let it be brief."

"This boy," said Tambusa, with a wave of the hand towards Nkombazana,
who squatted a little distance off.  "He has slain no Amabuna.  Let him
go home."

No reply was made at first, and the Amabuna looked at each other.  But
Nkombazana, who had heard all, now sprang to his feet.  He to go home,
when his father and chief was to die here?  No, no!  Then, with flashing
eyes, he began bellowing out the number of Amabuna he had slain.  Why,
he had helped to batter out the brains of that very party, and had
ripped up white women with his own spear what time we rushed the waggon
camp.  If his chief was to die, he would die with him.  A warrior must
follow his chief everywhere.

Well, he obtained his wish.  The leaders would have spared him at first,
but when they heard him glorying in the slaughter of their countrymen--
and countrywomen, too--they soon desisted in their attempts, and the
Amabuna at large howled for his blood.

So Tambusa and his young follower were ordered to proceed in the midst
of their armed guard to the outskirts of the camp to meet their death.

No further word did Tambusa speak, save one of commendation of the
bravery shown by his follower.  He strode forth in the midst of his
guard, his head thrown back--his great stature and fearless countenance
worthy of a Zulu of the noblest rank and birth.  When they ordered him
to halt he did so, and, facing round upon the line of levelled guns,
stood proudly, with folded arms, his young follower standing equally
fearless at his side.  A line of flame shot forth, and a rolling crash.
Tambusa and Nkombazana sunk quietly to the ground, pierced by many
bullets, dying without a struggle.

Such, then, was the end of Tambusa, and although, _Nkose_, I had no
liking for him nor he for me--indeed, had he lived he would ever have
been my bitterest enemy--yet his end was that of a brave man, and in
every way worthy of an induna of the Zulu nation who sat at the right
hand of the King.



CHAPTER TWENTY TWO.

THE DIVIDING OF THE NATION.

The time had been well chosen for the return of the Bapongqolo to the
heart of the nation, for now the Amabuna were advancing upon us, and
with them Nongalaza at the head of a strong army, made up of the rebel
traitors whom he had induced to desert their true king.  The killing of
Tambusa while on a message of peace had infuriated Dingane.  He ordered
Nkunkundhlovu to be burnt, vowing to rebuild it no more until he had
driven the rebels and their white friends from the land, and exacted a
fearful vengeance for the slaughter of his faithful induna.  So the
_izanusi_ were called up, and we were doctored for battle, and Lalusini,
or Mahlula, as she was known here, together with her band of girls
decked out in their richest dresses, stood forth and heartened the
warriors by their songs of battle and victory; even as she had once
heartened us to defeating, under the shadow of my white shield, these
very warriors with whom I now fought, and a section of whom I was now
leading.  Yes, these hundreds of men, the Bapongqolo, were worth much to
Dingane now.

The day had come at last, and the nation was divided.  And now, with the
one great struggle for the very life of the nation at our gates, Dingane
showed himself, as he never had so shown himself before, as a noble and
worthy warrior-king of a mighty warrior people.

It was the morning of the battle, that great struggle which should mean,
to him and his, all or nothing.  Ha! he was great, he was majestic, that
warrior King, as he came forth to address his children--to hearten us
for what lay before us.  Not that we needed burning words of
encouragement, for of all that dense array crouching there behind their
shields, not one at that moment but longed for the gleam of the spears
of Nongalaza to come into view.

Then the King stood forth arrayed in full war dress, his great form
towering to the height of the waving ostrich plumes which rose above his
head-ring--his head thrown back in royal pride as his eyes swept proudly
over the dense ranks of those who adhered to him--and his words rolled
like thunder upon the still air:

"My children, the day is upon us at last when the might of the People of
the Heavens is to be put upon its sorest trial; the day which is to
decide whether the name of Zulu is to blaze forth again in all its
brightness, to strike terror once more upon the world, or to become a
forgotten thing.  For a space it has been hidden, but only that it might
blaze forth again the more brightly.  Yonder there come against us
enemies.  There are those who came among us with false words--calling
themselves a holy people--and striving, with fair words, to wrest from
us the lands which, bit by bit, we have added to the greatness of our
nation--a people which knows not how to keep faith--a people which, in
its greed, knows not how to observe its own agreements--a nation which
slays ambassadors bearing a peace message.  But worse.  With that
people, who comes?  Who but they who would divide the nation--who, to do
this, have not scrupled to place their neck beneath the foot of this
other race--of these Amabuna, the scum and refuse of all white peoples--
they of our own blood--they who have grown great under the shadow of the
House of Senzangakona.  These indeed are worse than dogs, for even a dog
will not bite the hand that fattens him.  Ha! and with them is one of
the House of Senzangakona--yet not, for it cannot be that a real bough
of that great and royal tree can have joined with the refuse of all the
white races, to turn and destroy his father's house.  Some bastard must
it be--changed at birth--some low, base bastard, foisted by fraud upon
the House of Senzangakona.  And he, he who would, by the favour of the
Amabuna, call himself King, where is he?  Not among those who come
against us.  He is not even a leader of men.  See him skulk behind the
guns of the Amabuna while my dog, Nongalaza, leads his army for him.
His army!  _Hau_! a pack of cur dogs whom the lion-cubs of Zulu shall
disperse howling, for how shall so base and traitorous a band of
runaways face and stand against the might of these?"

And as Dingane waved his hand over the assembled army a sound went up
like the sullen roar of a sea-wave that curls and breaks.  The King went
on:

"My children! this is a time, not for talking, but for doing.  I, your
father, am here with you--I, your leader.  Let the lion-cubs of Zulu
fall on bravely under the eye of the lion.  Lo! those who direct you are
men to follow.  Where is Umhlela? where is Silwane? where Nomapela and
Untuswa?"  And with each name a storm of applause rolled from the
warriors.  "Where they are, there follow.  Lo!  I see the enemy.  Lo!
there are they who come against us.  In perfect order, rank upon rank,
go now to meet them.  Fall on and strike--and strike hard.  Strike until
not one of them is left.  Go, my children!  Go, lion-cubs of Zulu!"

Away in the distance a dust-cloud was advancing, and through it the
sheen and flash of spears.  With a great roar the whole army sprang to
its feet and saluted the King, who stood, with head thrown back and
outstretched arm, pointing with his spear towards the approaching host;
and as the regiments formed up in columns and began their march, moving
out over the plain like huge black serpents, the war-song of Dingane
rolled forth like thunder upon the still and brooding air:

  "Us'eziteni!
  Asiyikuza sababona."

  ["Thou art in among the enemy.
  _We_ shall never get a right of him."]

Louder and louder it swelled, uttered in fierce, jerky roars, as the
roars of ravening beasts who can no longer be restrained from their
prey.  Then the red mist was before all eyes.  The host of Nongalaza was
singing, too; but for that we had no ears, only eyes for the body of our
foe.  Our warriors now swung forward at a run, the ranks steadied and
kept in line by the warning word of an induna, or a sub-captain.
Otherwise none spoke.

Now they are before us.  Their appearance is even as that of ourselves.
They have the same shields, the same broad spears, the same discipline.
But their courage?  Ha!  We have that--we, the chosen, we, the faithful.
Now we are among them; there is the slap of shield meeting shield, the
tramp of struggling feet, the soft tearing of spear ripping flesh.  Ha!
The red blood is flowing; warriors go down by hundreds--beaten to
earth--ripped as they lie--as many of ours as of theirs.  The savage,
gargling groan of the dying, as they strive to drag themselves upward,
and, spear in hand, die fighting still--the death-hiss of their
slayers--the "_I-ji_!" that thrilling whistle that shakes the air--the
laboured panting of those who strive--the shiver and clash of hard wood
and the crunch of bone, as the heavy knob-sticks meet other hard wood,
or perchance a skull--these are the sounds that turn the air itself
verily warring.  But neither side gives way--neither side yields a
foot's breadth--or, if so, it is but for a moment, to charge again in
renewed fury.

Again and again this happens.  No advantage can either side gain.  Both
strive with equal fury; both trained in valour and discipline under the
same training.  _Whau_! there will be none left to tell of this battle,
so surely shall we make an end of each other.

Now I, with the Bapongqolo, being in command of the left "horn" of our
army, am striving to surround that of the enemy, though his numbers are
almost as great as our own, and in this I am partially succeeding.  But
what is the other "horn" doing?  By this time we have gained some
slightly rising ground, and now I can see.  Ha!  Can it be?  Those on
that side are fighting against us--fighting against their own brethren--
fighting against their King.  _They have gone over to the side of
Nongalaza_.

But, so far from disheartening our people, this traitorous defection
acts differently.  Umhlela, watching and partly directing the battle
from a little distance off, gives the word, and himself at the head of
the force he has been holding in reserve, charges furiously upon these
traitors, rolling them back upon the thick of Nongalaza's force, and
throwing the latter into confusion.  Umhlela is a small man and old, but
never was there a braver one.  He is in the hottest of the battle, and
they whom he leads follow like lions.  The tossing of shields, and the
tramp and pushing of striving feet, shakes both earth and air.  Ha!
Umhlela is down.  A wounded warrior, supposed to be dead, has sprung to
his feet, and with last stroke has cleft the brave induna through the
heart.  But the rallying cry on the dying lips: "On, children of Zulu!
The Lion watches you," thrills our people with renewed strength.  Now we
gain.  The rebels are giving way.  Now is the time.  We press them
harder and harder.  Not hundreds now, but thousands lie slain, or
writhing in death-throes.  They are beginning to withdraw.  The day is
ours.

Is it?  Ha!  What is that shout, gathering in volume as it rolls along
behind the rebel army--heartening those in front to face us more
fiercely.

"They come, the Amabuna!  The Amabuna are at hand!"

We who hear it can see Nongalaza riding on horseback along his rank--he
and other of Mpande's indunas--and with shout and gesture they point
behind them, then wave their men on.  And in the distance can be heard
the rattle of the discharge of guns.

"They come, the Amabuna!"

That cry loses us the day.  The younger regiments waver, fall into
confusion, and flee.  The men of the Imbele-bele--a splendid ringed
regiment--stand their ground.  So, too, do the Bapongqolo.  Then we have
work to do.  One glance behind us, and we can see the land covered with
fleeing fugitives; but the spot whence the King watched the battle is
empty.  We have saved the King.

Well, we are doomed.  Thick and fast our warriors fall, being hugely
outnumbered, and it wants but the coming of the Amabuna to make an end
of us completely.

Now Nongalaza came riding along in my direction, where I, at the head of
the Bapongqolo, stood at bay, and waved on his army, crying aloud that
they should make an end of us, at all events.  So seeing the rebel
host--which now was stronger than we--sweeping up to surround us, I gave
the word to retreat, and not too soon either, for we had to fight our
way through the closing "horns."  But the land on that side was broken,
and seamed with dongas; and Nongalaza's people, tumbling over each other
in their hurry and confusion, were less quick than we.  Yet many were
slain in that rout, and ere night fell the land seemed alive with
pursuers and pursued.  But I set my face in the direction of the Ngome
forests, where my outlawry had been spent.  There, I knew, were holes
and retreats wherein not all the men of Nongalaza twice over would
succeed in finding me.

And, as night fell, the dull red glow of burning kraals lit up the land,
and from afar you could hear the exultant war-song--the song of victory.
Yet not altogether, for the song of Mpande was the song of bondage too,
in that he, a prince of the House of Senzangakona, had purchased his
kingship dear; for he had purchased it at the price of doing _konza_ to
the Amabuna, in order to be allowed to hold it--in order to sit in the
seat of Tshaka the Mighty, and of the warrior-king Dingane, who,
however, might even yet be heard of again.

The slaughter on either side that day was immense, _Nkose_.  Yet not by
might or by bravery did Nongalaza win that victory.  Oh, no!  He won it
by a trick.  Had he not cried that the Amabuna were at hand, we should
not have given way.  But up till then we had gained no great advantage,
and the approach of these people, who could gallop into our very midst
and discharge their guns without harm to themselves, took all heart out
of our warriors, already hard pressed by the forces of Nongalaza, nearly
equal as these were to our own.  So we fled, and lost the day.  Yet we
need not have, for the Amabuna were not really coming.  But a good
general will despise no method of snatching a victory, and Nongalaza was
right.



CHAPTER TWENTY THREE.

A HARD ORDEAL.

"Waken, Untuswa!"

The whisper was soft, so, too, was the touch, yet I sprang to my feet,
grasping my spear.  But at the same moment my grasp on it relaxed, for
before me stood Lalusini.

Wearied with the hard fierce fighting of the day, I had crept into a
secure hiding-place beneath a rock overhung with all manner of
undergrowth, and had slept soundly.  Yet my dreams had been full of
warring and battle, and now my great assegai was clotted and foul with
blood, and more than one deep gash on body or limb felt stiff and
smarting.

But all thought of myself seemed at an end as I looked at Lalusini.
There was a hard fierce look upon her face such as I had never seen
there before, and in it I saw a strong likeness to Dingane.

"The time has come, Untuswa," she said shortly.  "Take thy spear, look
well to its point, and follow me."

"That I will gladly do, Lalusini," I answered.  "But, as we travel, tell
me, what work is before me now?"

"One stroke of thy broad spear--the King's Assegai--ha, ha! it is well
named--it will be a royal weapon indeed!  One stroke of thy broad spear
and we shall be great together, great even as I have often predicted to
thee.  Come!  Let us hasten."

There was an eager fierceness in her tone and manner that kept me
marvelling; however, I would see what her plan was.

She led the way--not speaking.  We passed beneath spreading forest
trees, where the thick undergrowth impeded our advance, and the silence
of the shade was only broken by the call of birds.  It seemed as though
men's feet had never trodden here; yet I knew the spot, for this was one
of the very refuges I had at first thought of running for myself.

"There," said Lalusini, in a quick, fierce whisper, pointing with her
hand.  "Strike hard and true.  So shall we be great together."

I went forward.  In front was a low cliff, hanging over as though it had
intended to form a cave, but was not quite sure of its own mind.  Under
the shelter thus formed, just screened from view in front by a dense
growth of scrub lay the form of a man.

Cautiously I peered through the bushes, then put them aside.  The form,
which was turned away from me, did not stir.  Noiselessly I stepped
beside it, and then as I bent down to gaze into the face, I could hardly
forbear a start.  It was the face of Dingane--the face of the King.

Yes; it was the Great Great One himself.  He was sound asleep, his head
pillowed on one hand, interposed between it and the rock.  But how came
he here, he who moved armed men in their countless might--he before whom
the nations trembled and hid their heads--how came he here, in hiding
and alone?

But was he alone?  It seemed so, for I could descry no sign--no sound of
the presence of men.  And while I thus gazed, again that soft whisper
breathed into my ear, "Strike, and strike hard!  So shall we be great
together!"

Strike!  Nothing could have been easier.  The large form lay there
without movement, the heave of the breast, above the heart, turned
towards me as though inviting the stroke.  Yet, as I gazed, the noble
majesty on the countenance of the sleeping King seemed to paralyse my
arm.  One blow, and Lalusini, by her sorcery, aided by my own warrior
prowess, might set me upon Dingane's seat.  Yet, I could not do it.

Then I thought the sleeper stirred.

"He wakes," I whispered, withdrawing again behind the bushes.  Lalusini
followed me.

"And art thou so weak, Untuswa?" she said.  "_Au_!  For this have I
laboured, for this have I plotted and exercised my magic until it was
nearly too much forme.  Yet not all for greatness, but for revenge.  The
blood of Tshaka the Mighty flowed over the spear of Dingane; now shall
the blood of Dingane flow over thy spear!"

Still I moved not, and she went on:

"The blood of that Mighty One from whom I am sprang, and who caused me
to learn my magic that through it vengeance might fall, shall it not be
avenged?  The time has come for which I have waited and striven.  Now
go, and make an end of it, Untuswa, so shall we be great together; else
canst thou be great alone--or small--with no help from me."

Now I nerved myself.  That which she seemed to threaten looked too
terrible, for in truth, by her I was as one bewitched.

"Go, Untuswa.  My _muti_ is upon him.  He will not waken too readily,"
she whispered, in her sweetest of tones, gently pushing me towards the
cave once more.

Again I parted the bushes and peered through; again I stood over the
sleeping King.  A great white shield lay almost beneath him, and two
broad assegais had slid from his relaxed grasp.  I raised my spear--No,
I could not do it.

Had he been awake, and standing up, the deed would be an easy one at
that moment; but alone, deserted, and asleep--no, I could not thus slay
him.

And then I thought of the favour he had shown me, even to allowing me
the chance of escaping to the Bapongqolo, what time Tambusa and Umhlela
had striven to compass my death.  I thought how he had spared me, spared
the Bapongqolo, and had raised me to honour when all men trembled at his
frown; and now that he lay here, a deserted fugitive, I could not turn
against him.  His life lay within my hand, yet I could not take it.  No,
not to win greatness for myself; not even to retain Lalusini's love.

"Farewell, Untuswa!" came that soft whisper behind me.  "Farewell; we
may meet no more."

She stepped swiftly through the belt of bushes.  For a moment I stood
stupidly gazing after her, then I followed.  But she had disappeared.  I
called her, I searched for her.  All in vain.

Then I went back to the sleeping King.  Him I would save at all events.
I had helped in saving him during the battle yesterday, by holding back
the _impi_ of Nongalaza; to-day I would save him entirely by myself.
Even now Lalusini might have gone to find those who would carry out her
bidding readily enough.

"Awaken, Great Great One!"  I said, not too loud, lest others ears might
be about.  "Thy servant knows of a better sleeping-place than this."

At first Dingane seemed to arouse himself but slowly.  Then he sprang
up, gripping his shield and spears.

"Who art thou?" he cried, darting upon me his lion-like glance.  "Ha!
Untuswa, is it?  Another traitor perhaps.  How sayest thou, Untuswa?
All, all are traitors."

"No traitor am I, Black Elephant," I answered.  "It is safer, however,
for the lion of Zulu to make his lair elsewhere."

In the glance which Dingane bent upon me was distrust, suspicion,
contempt by turns, but no sign of fear.

"What, Untuswa, and art thou faithful to me--thou, the wanderer--thou
who art not of us, while they whom my hand has fed have deserted me--
have turned their spears against me?  _Whau_!  It cannot be."

"Who am I to fill the ears of the Great Great One with words," I
answered.  "Yet, my father--wanderer or no wanderer--I know of no man
whom the Lion of Zulu may more safely trust."

"What, then, are thy counsels, Untuswa?" said the King.

"This, Lion.  Hard by is a place known to none, where thou canst sit
still in safety until the army is collected again.  It was badly routed
in the more open plain, yet here in these fastnesses none will dare
venture--not even the Amabuna--until the trumpeting of the Elephant
shall scatter the traitors and rebels once more.  Such is my counsel,
Ruler of the Great."

"I will even trust thee, Untuswa," said the King.  "And now let us go
forth."

I picked up my shield and weapons, which, of course, I had let fall,
being in the royal presence, and we took our way thence, I walking in
advance and spying carefully around to guard against possible surprise.

For long we thus travelled, and when night came we sat and feasted upon
the meat of a young impala which I had killed by a lucky spear-cast; but
we slept away from any fire, and in a place of secure concealment.  On
the morrow we kept on our way once more, and by noon came to the
resting-place I had designed for the King.  This was a group of caves,
somewhat high up among the rocks of the Lebombo range.  Beneath, the
slope fell away, bushy, but not too thickly so as to prevent us from
descrying the approach of friend or foe, while on either side so strewn
with rocks and boulders was the base of the cliff that retreat would be
easy in the event of pursuit.

"_Whau_, Untuswa!" said the King, with a laugh in his eyes.  "When
Tambusa would have broken a nest of wasps around thy kraal, thou wert
turning thy wanderings to good account!"

"That is so, Great Great One," I answered, recalling to mind the words
of Sifadu--"The day might come when Dingane himself would be glad to
join us."  And strange it was that my enforced flight from the hate of
the principal indunas should be the means of providing the King with a
place of refuge and concealment in the day of his downfall.

So we rested there for many days, Dingane and I.  Yes, this dreaded one,
before whom all men and all nations had trembled, now treated me as a
friend, so entirely does adversity draw the greater and the lesser
together.  Yet never for a moment did I forget who it was that I thus
foregathered with; never was there aught that was unbecoming in word or
tone or action of mine towards the King--the real and true ruler of the
great Zulu nation.

Often would the thought of Lalusini return to me, of her purposed
revenge, which she intended to seize through me.  This, then, was that
for which she had plotted--this the means by which I was to become
great.  Had I in refusing it acted the part of a fool?  No, that could
not be, for, _Nkose_, although I spared not such as would injure me or
could not keep faith, yet never did I lift hand against any who did well
by me.  Wherefore now I rejoiced that I had not slain the King--had not
slain a sleeping and helpless man at the bidding of a woman, even though
that woman were Lalusini.

Sometimes a gloom would settle upon the mind of Dingane.  His sun had
set, he would declare.  The power of Zulu was a thing of the past, now
that the nation was divided.  But at such times I would say what I could
to cheer him, telling him portions of my own story, which, in truth, had
been wonderful.  The army was scattered.  Time was needed to collect it,
and that time, I thought, had now arrived.  I saw that everything was at
hand that the Great One might need, and then I prepared to depart.

"I know not, Untuswa," he said, as I took leave of him.  "But for thy
faithfulness these many days I might bethink me that soon thou shouldst
return at the head of an _impi_ to earn the reward promised by Mpande
and the Amabuna to him who should deliver to them the real King--"

But I interrupted; somewhat unbecomingly, I admit:

"If that is thy thought, father, slay me as I stand," and dropping my
weapons I advanced a pace or two.

"Nay, nay, Untuswa," he said, "that is what I might have thought, not
what I thought," replied the King gently.  "Fare-thee-well, Untuswa, and
may success be thine.  Fare-thee-well, Untuswa, my servant--Untuswa, my
friend."

"_Bayete_!"  I cried, with right hand aloft.  Then I started upon my
errand, and more than ever did I rejoice that my spear had remained
bright in the face of the entreaties of Lalusini.



CHAPTER TWENTY FOUR.

THE STROKE OF SOPUZA.

  "_Bayete, Nkulu-nkulu_!
  Father! we thy children have found thee at last!
  Lo! long have we wandered weeping, but now we are comforted.
  Come forth and show us the brightness of thy head-ring."

Thus sang a great half circle of armed warriors, mustered on the slope
beneath Dingane's place of concealment.

Thus again and again they sang, but still Dingane did not appear.

For I had fulfilled my errand, _Nkose_, and this was the result--an
array of warriors nearly as large as the original strength of the
Amandebeli what time we followed Umzilikazi over the mountains.  I had
gone hither and thither, had turned night into day, had not spared
myself, or feared danger.  I had found out and rallied all the scattered
bands which at heart had remained faithful to Dingane.  I had drawn men
from the kraals of Mpande himself, and from beneath the very shadow of
the camps of the Amabuna.  But one moon had died since I took leave of
the King--I alone.  Yet here I was, returning at the head of a splendid
army--an army nearly as large as that with which Umzilikazi had founded
a new nation.  In truth, Dingane had not trusted me in vain.

Here were Silwane and Nomapela, and others of the old war-captains.
Here was a remnant of the old Imbele-bele regiment--the Bapongqolo, too,
my staunch refugees--and as much of the army as had survived the defeat
by Nongalaza.  All had in truth thought Dingane to be dead, but as I
passed through their midst carrying word to the contrary, they had
sprung to arms, and mustering swiftly and secretly, had returned to do
_konza_ to their rightful King.  And here they were.

Now they redoubled their entreaties, singing louder and louder their
songs of praise.

  Sun of suns, come forth in thy brightness;
  We thy children sit in darkest night.
  If thou wilt not show us thy face.
  Lion of Zulu--thy cubs still have teeth,
  Teeth that are sharpened for war.

This time the King appeared.  But before the great burst of _sibonga_
which greeted his presence had died away he turned his back and retired,
for by this means he chose to mark his displeasure over their seeming
desertion.

Again and again they howled forth their songs of praise and entreaty.
The King appeared again.  This time he did not go back.  He surveyed
them a few moments in silence, then he called:

"Come hither, Untuswa."

I disarmed, and crept up to where he stood.

"Sit here, Untuswa," he said, pointing to the ground at his feet.  "This
is thy place.  For the rest they can still remain at a distance."

So I sat, _Nkose_, thinking how strange it was that I, who had begun my
life as the son of an induna, should live to become the principal
fighting chief of Umzilikazi's army, and then come to earn the
confidence of the Great Great One, the King of the mighty Zulu nation--
should be bidden to sit near him while all others were kept at a
distance--should live to become the most trusted councillor of two
mighty Kings; for such I saw was the honour before me now.

Then Dingane, lifting up his voice, addressed the warriors.  For the
battle against Mpande's force he commended them greatly.  Their bravery
was worthy of all praise, and not for lack of it on their part had
Nongalaza won the day, having done so by a mere trick--a clever trick,
it was true.  But when they fled their terror had been too great.  They
had forgotten their King.  One man alone had cleaved to the King, and
that man was Untuswa--a wanderer--not even one of themselves.  Still,
remembering how valiantly they had fought, remembering how speedily they
had returned to their rightful place, he would forget that.

The groans wherewith the listeners had heard his reproaches now turned
to murmurs of delight.  Dingane went on:

The nation was divided, but it must be reunited once more.  With such as
they whom he saw before him this might soon be done.  Men of the pure
blood of Zulu could not sit down for long beneath the sway of one who
was a mere slave of the Amabuna.  They would return--return to the
strength and root of the great Zulu power, their rightful King.  But
those who had remained faithful would ever be held in the highest
honour.

As the Great One finished speaking, a mighty roar went up from the
assembled warriors.  They hailed him as their guide, their father, their
deliverer, and by every title of _bonga_.  Then much time was given up
to songs and dances, for all rejoiced that they were no longer a broken
remnant, and that the King was at their head once more.

The plan which Dingane now decided on was a waiting one.  He relied on
desertions from Mpande, whom we now learned by means of our spies had
been placed by the Amabuna in his seat, who now reigned King.  _Whau_!
was ever such a thing heard of?  A King of the Amazulu, the conquerors
of the world, holding his seat by favour of white people--and such white
people!  But it could not last--no, it could not last.  The heavens
might well fell.

We moved down to a more accessible site in the Ngome wilds, and there
kraals were erected, and time was bestowed upon gathering together such
of the nation as remained faithful, and encouraging others to come in.
Meanwhile a careful look-out was kept upon a possible invasion; but
Mpande, who seemed not to care about venturing beyond the Tugela, made
no hostile movement, neither did the Amabuna, and for a time we enjoyed
rest and a breathing-space while our plans were maturing.

I, for my part, was now advanced to a position of great honour, not less
indeed than that formerly held by Tambusa himself.  That induna was now
dead; so too was Umhlela, as I have told you, _Nkose_; and such of my
enemies who survived had but one fear now, and that was lest I might
turn my greatness to account in compassing their destruction.  But of
this I had no thought, so completely was my mind full of how to restore
the ascendency of Dingane and the might of the nation.

All this while I saw nothing of Lalusini, nor by the most deftly veiled
questionings could I obtain tidings of her from any.  Whither had she
gone?  Would she not reappear as she had done before?  And for all my
greatness my heart was sore--very sore, as I thought of her and longed
for her; yet never for a moment did I repent me that I had not slain the
King at her bidding.

Now Dingane had built for himself a great kraal on one of the wildest
slopes of the Ngome hills.  It was surrounded by dense forests and rocks
and precipices, and the ways of approach being but few, and always
securely guarded, the King felt safe from all possibility of attack.
But shortly an alarm was given.  _Impis_ from Mpande were reported
near--not to attack us, for they were not large enough--but as spies.
So the King sent forth two regiments under Silwane to cut them off, if
possible, so that, finding themselves surrounded, they would accept the
offer of their lives, and return to their allegiance.  I, however, was
not sent out.

_Whau, Nkose_!  Well do I remember that evening.  The sun had gone down
in a mass of heavy cloud, and in the red glow that remained an awful and
brooding silence rested upon the surrounding forests.  Then it grew
dark, and, after we had eaten, the King and I sat long into the night
conversing, and upon him seemed to lie that gloom which had darkened his
mind when he and I together had been fugitives and in hiding.  But I
strove to cheer him, and our conversation being ended he dismissed me,
and retired within the _isigodhlo_.

I, too, retired to rest.  For long I lay thinking, not able to sleep;
then I dozed off and dreamed.  It seemed to me that once more I was back
at Kwa'zingwenya.  Once more, my heart full of rage over the
disappearance of Lalusini, I was creeping stealthily to slay Umzilikazi
in his sleep.  Once more I sprang upon him, spear uplifted.  Once more I
heard the shouts of his bodyguard, as they swarmed to his aid.  Then I
awoke--awoke suddenly, and with a start.  Ha! the shouts were real--I
was not dreaming now--and with them I heard the hurried tramp of rushing
feet go by my hut.

Those were times for quick thought--for quick action.  In a moment I was
outside the hut, fully armed, listening.  Ha!  The tumult, the shouting
and tramp of feet!  It came from the _isigodhlo_.

Thither I sprang.  I could see the King's body-guard there before me,
for the moon was up; could see the flash of spears, the sheen of white
shields.  Several dark bodies lay upon the ground, and at these they
were stabbing and hacking.  Just as I came up another was dragged forth
by the heels and cut to pieces there and then.

The King had been stabbed.  Such was the news now spoken in awed
whispers.  But, who were these?  Emissaries of Mpande?  No.  By their
head-rings and ornaments they were not of us.  They were Amaswazi.

Quickly I took in what had happened.  There was the hole in the fence
through which these had crept.  Even as I had stolen upon Umzilikazi so
had these stolen upon Dingane, but with better effect.

Howls of horror over the deed went up from all.  By this time the whole
kraal was aroused, and such few as were left in it came flocking out.
But I, being in great authority, quelled the tumult.

"How happened it?"  I asked.

"Thus, father," replied the captain of the King's guard, a young man,
but just ringed.  "Yonder crept these scorpions," pointing to the hole I
had already observed, "and struck the Great Great One in his sleep.  But
now are they all dead, we have made an end of them."

"It were better to have prevented the deed, Sodosi," I said severely.
"Yet `all' didst thou say?  Wait!  Follow me.  I need but three or
four."

With this number I crept through the hole, and as we did so, there
sprang up suddenly in the darkness under the shade of the fence two men,
making for the forest edge as hard as they could run.  But I could run,
too, in those days, _Nkose_, and one of them as he reached it fell dead
with the blade of my assegai driven right through his back.  The other
was attacked by my followers, and from the sounds of the struggle I
judged that he was fighting well and desperately.  But they could take
care of him.  I had another matter to attend to.

For in the gloom just in front of me I could hear a faint and stealthy
rustle, and towards it I moved, silently and swiftly, listening the
while lest I might be drawn into a trap.  No!  It was but one man.  I
could see a form, dark and tall, moving from tree to tree, but it seemed
as though I would never come within striking distance.  I was now far
beyond my followers, but I felt somehow that the capture of this one
fugitive was to be desired more than the deaths of all the others put
together.

Still this figure eluded me, now showing for a moment in the moonlight,
now vanishing in the shade.  Here at last was an open space and the
runaway could not diverge.  One final effort, a mighty rush, and I was
upon him.

"Yield now," I roared, raising my bloodstained spear.  "Yield or I
cleave thee to the heart."

"As thou wouldst have done Tola," said a soft voice; and then I stood
staring.  The tall figure of the fugitive had halted, and, turned
towards me, under the full light of the moon, I beheld the face of
Lalusini.

"What hast thou done, woman?"  I stammered, feeling bewitched.

"The stroke of Sopuza has fallen," she answered simply.  "The spirit of
Tshaka the Mighty no longer roars aloud for blood.  What then?"

"What then?"  I repeated, now quite bewildered.  "What then?"

But Lalasini laughed, a low, sweet, bewitching laugh.

"Art thou going to deliver me to be torn in pieces by the cubs of the
Lion who is dead, Untuswa?"

For some moments I gazed at her as though I were changed into a stone.
Then I turned away.

"_Hlala gahle_, Lalusini," I said, over my shoulder.  Again she laughed.

"_Hamba gahle_, son of Ntelani," she said.  "We shall again be together,
but not great together--not great--ah, no!--never now."

Her words seemed to beat within my brain as I took my way backward
through the forest, and there was that in them which I liked.  No, in
truth I could not deliver her over to vengeance; any other person--but
Lalusini--ah, no!  I could not do it.

"The stroke of Sopuza" had indeed fallen, and these, _Nkose_, were the
words of a prophecy uttered long before by an old magician as to the
manner in which death should one day find out Dingane, and for this
reason fierce war had been waged upon the tribe which owned Sopuza for
chief, and whose dwelling was upon the Swazi border.  But, secure in its
mountain fastnesses, our _impis_ had not always been able to reach it.

Quickly I took my way back to the kraal.  The King was not dead, and had
been inquiring for me; and when I entered the royal house, he spoke
drowsily, calling me by name.  I found that he had received several
stabs, one of them cleaving his entrails in a frightful manner.  He
would hardly see the rising of another sun.

"Hither, Untuswa," he murmured.  "Didst thou make an end of those
scorpions?"

"An end, indeed, Black Elephant," I answered.

"All of them?"

"That is yet to be done, father.  There will shortly be howling
throughout the Swazi nation, for of that race are those who struck the
Great Great One."

"Yet I thought--or dreamed--that the hand of a woman was in it," said
the King.

"Ha! the women of the Amaswazi shall help to pay the penalty, then," I
answered, fearful lest the Great Great One should have recognised
Lalusini, whom I would fain save.

"No matter, the stroke of Sopuza has fallen--ah, yes, it has fallen at
last," he murmured.  "And now, Untuswa, send and gather together all the
warriors.  Bid that they come in full array of war; for I desire to
feast my eyes upon the sight I have ever loved best."

"That I have already done, father."

"Thou art a very prince of indunas, Untuswa," replied Dingane.  "Hast
thou gathered in all?"

"All, father.  I have sent swift runners to Silwane's _impi_ and to all
our outlying kraals."

"That is well."

Now the _izanusi_ craved leave to enter, but Dingane would have none of
them.  There was but one in whose magic he had any faith, he said, and
that was Mahlula; and since the battle Mahlula had been seen or heard of
by none.  Ha!  I could have revealed a strange tale, _Nkose_, but that
was furthest of all from my mind.  Then the _izanusi_, thus refused
admittance, set up a doleful howling outside the hut, until Dingane,
wrathful, bade me go forth and drive them away, which I was glad to do.

All through the night I sat beside the King, never leaving him; all
through the night bands of warriors were arriving at the kraal, and the
tramp of their feet and the renewed wailings of the King's women in
their huts was all the sound that was heard; for men cared not to talk,
so great a mourning and grief had fallen upon all.

With the dawn of day Dingane aroused himself.

"I will go forth, Untuswa.  Give me the aid of thy shoulder."

But even thus it was found that he could not walk, so I caused his chair
to be brought, and thus he was borne forth, I supporting him; but
although four stalwart warriors bent to the task, it was a hard one, for
the men of the House of Senzangakona are large beyond the ordinary, as
you know, _Nkose_.

Outside the kraal the warriors were mustered, squatting behind their
great war-shields, forming a huge half circle even as on the day when
they hailed the fugitive King in his place of concealment, only now
their number had nearly doubled.  There they sat, rank upon rank,
motionless.  As the King's chair was lowered to the ground the whole of
this dense mass of armed men threw their war-shields to the earth and
fell prostrate upon them, and in the roar of the "_Bayete_" which
thundered forth was a subdued growl of grief and wrath.  Then they
arose, and squatted crouching as before.

The eyes of the dying King kindled, as he swept his glance over this
splendid army, and his form seemed to gather renewed life as he sat
upright in his chair, his shield-bearer holding on high the great white
shield behind him.  Then he spoke:

"My children, I have called you here because I desire that the last
sight my eyes shall rest on shall be the sight which they have always
loved the most to behold, the sight of warriors under arms, of warriors
of Zulu.

"What prouder name has the world ever known?  Warriors of Zulu!  And
you--you, my children, have well deserved it and worthily won it.  Not
in you was it to place your necks beneath the foot of any base slave of
the Amabuna, any cur who seeks to roar like the lion, any calf who would
fain stamp with the rumble of the elephant, any changeling bastard who
would drag the House of Senzangakona into the dust beneath the shoes of
the Amabuna.  Not in you was it to do this.  But you have faithfully
cleaved to your real King in shadow as in sunshine, and see now the
result.  Look around on your own ranks.  Very soon now should we have
gone forth, for not always was it my intention to sit down here and
rest.  Then we would have swept the traitors of our own race and the
Amabuna into one common pit, and covered them up and stamped them in
there for ever.

"I cannot talk many more words to you, my children.  But if you have
been loyal and faithful to me, your well-being has ever been my care as
your father, your brave deeds have ever been my pride as your King.  The
nation has been divided, but I would have knit it together again.  I
would have restored it through you, faithful ones, to all its former
greatness.  But now I have to leave you.  The base hand of evil wizardry
has found me in my sleep, has struck me down in the night, and now I go
into the Dark Unknown."

"_Ma-ye_!" moaned the warriors, their heads bowed in grief as Dingane
paused.  Then, gathering once more fresh strength, with an effort the
dying King went on, and his voice rolled clear and strong like a call to
battle:

"Lo!  I see not the end.  I know not who shall reunite this people, who
shall deliver it from slavery and disgrace--extinction; for now I must
leave it.  My eyes are dim and the Dark Unknown is closing in around me.
Yet still my last gaze is upon that sight which is the grandest the
world ever saw--the warriors of Zulu under arms.  Farewell, warriors of
Zulu!"

The voice ceased.  The head drooped forward on the chest.  The great
form would have fallen prone from the chair but for those who stood by.
The King was dead.

Through the dense ranks there shivered forth one deep moan, and for long
no man stirred.  All sat in silence, mourning thus the loss of their
father and King.

So died Dingane, the second of the mighty Kings of Zulu.  Even as the
great Tshaka had died the death of the spear at his hand, so died he the
death of the spear, being struck in his sleep.  But he died as he had
lived, and his was the death of a true warrior-king--his last gaze upon
the ranks of his assembled army--face to face with it--his last words to
it, words of commendation and loving farewell--and who shall say,
_Nkose_, that such was not a great and glorious death?



CHAPTER TWENTY FIVE.

CONCLUSION.

We buried the King with great ceremony and the sacrifice of beasts; and
the whole army sat around in deep silence, the silence of grief and
mourning for that the nation was now left without a head; but it was a
silence that was rendered more awesome by the death-rites of the
_izanusi_ and the wailings of the women.  Only for a short while,
however, was the Great Great One to sit upon that seat, for he was taken
up again in the dead of night and removed to a secret grave, known to
but very few, as the custom is to keep secret the burial-places of
kings.

Yes, with the passing away of Dingane the army was as a body without a
head.  At such a time the thought would often be in my mind how Lalusini
would have me seize the opportunity of putting myself in Dingane's
place; for I too was of a royal tree--that of Dingiswayo, of the tribe
of Umtetwa, whose place had been seized by Tshaka--yet not near enough
was I to the stem of that tree, being but a branch.  But I could clearly
see that if opportunity there had been it was now no more.  The loyalty
of the army to the House of Senzangakona was too great; and now, being
without a head, the warriors began to talk among themselves of the
expediency of doing _konza_ to the other Great One of that House.  So we
consulted together--I and Silwane and some of the principal war-chiefs--
and in a short time we sent messengers to Mpande, who was the rightful
King now, however he might owe his seat to the Amabuna.  But with the
army that had followed the Great One who was dead turned into his own
army, Mpande might perhaps remedy even that.

Our messengers returned accompanied by others, including an induna of
note, assuring us of the royal favour.  That decided us.

It was a great day, the day that saw the nation reunited once more.
Mpande sat in state, as our army filed in to his kraal near the Tugela--
for Nodwengu had not then been erected--singing songs of war and praises
to the new King; and when as one man the whole number of those black
ones threw down their weapons and shields and shouted aloud the
"_Bayete_," bending low before him, the look upon the face of the King
was one of gladness and great pride.  Then he spoke to us.  We had
fought hard and valiantly for that Great One who was no more.  We had
been faithful to our rightful King, and had cleaved to him through his
reverses.  The stroke of some evil wizard had laid that Great One low in
the dark hours of the night, but the House of Senzangakona was not dead
yet, and we, quick to see this, had hastened to cry the "_Bayete_" to
the head of that house, and the head of the Zulu nation.  By reason of
the fidelity we had shown he assured us of his favour, for upon such he
felt he could rely.

Then the principal indunas of the returning army were called up, one by
one, and "named," and thus were continued in the commands they had held
up till now; some indeed being advanced to even greater honour--among
them myself.  And Mpande's word stood, for he ever regarded those who
had adhered to Dingane with greater favour than those who had divided
the nation with him.  But that day was passed in great rejoicing, and
many cattle were slaughtered, and the feasting went on far into the
night.

Towards its close I retired to my hut, thinking perhaps to find there my
Swazi wives, who had been given me by that Great One who was gone.  But
they were not there, nor was any--and while I was thinking what had
become of them the door was pushed softly open, and a voice said:

"Now, Untuswa, do I return.  Am I welcome?"

_Whau, Nkose_!  Then did I leap to my feet in amazement and joy.  For
the voice was that of Lalusini.

She had entered, and was standing upright within the hut.

"Welcome indeed, Lalusini," I replied.  "Art thou then tired of thy
sorcery?"

"I think that is so, Untuswa.  There is much that is weariful in it.  I
would have made thee great, and myself with thee--then whispering--I
would have reigned with thee Queen over this nation, but now I think I
must live and die the wife of an induna only.  Well, `the stroke of
Sopuza' has fallen, that is something."

I looked at her strangely in the firelight, for well I knew whose was
the hand that directed "the stroke of Sopuza."  She went on:

"Ah, ah, Untuswa!  The greatness I had destined for thee can never be
thine.  Thou art too faithful.  I would have had thee do it--yet my
heart went forth to thee, thou great, brave, honest fighter, whose spear
refused to strike the sleeping one--who chose to serve a King in his
downfall rather than be served as King thyself.  Thou wilt never be
greater than an induna thyself, and I--well, I think I shall never be
greater than an induna's wife."

And with these words she began to spread the mats in the hut, and heaped
more wood upon the fire, and saw that things were in their places.  Then
she came and sat beside me.

Well, what mattered further greatness?  I was great enough, being high
in the councils of those who, under the King, ruled the nation, and for
long I sat thus in a high place, and the favour of Mpande was always
over me.  But I had indeed passed through strange things, even as old
Gasitye had predicted I should when speaking from the ghost-cliff in the
Valley of the Red Death.  Yes, and even more was I destined to see, for
soon the Amabuna were driven out in their turn, and the land they had
seized from us was reft from them by the English.  Howbeit on these we
made no war, for they entered into a treaty with Mpande that the Zulu
people should dwell on this side of the Tugela, and the English on the
other; and this agreement they kept faithfully for a long space of time
until they began to fear Cetywayo, and then--but, _Nkose_, about that
you know, and I have already told far too long a tale for one night.
Yet, it is strange that the sight of the horns of your oxen, branching
through the mist, should have drawn forth not only the tale of the
ghost-bull and the Valley of the Red Death, but a greater one still--
even that of the downfall and death of Dingane, and the dividing of the
great Zulu nation; but so it ever is with the lives of men, one thing
leads on to another.  And now, _Nkose_, I think the time has come for
sleep.  Sleep well, _Nkose.  Whau_!  I know not whether you will return
to this country again to hear tales of its old doings of battle and of
blood, of warrior-kings and sorcerers, and beasts that have the life of
the ghosts of magicians within them, for I am old now, and my time is at
hand for a longer sleep than that which now awaits me underneath your
waggon.  _Nkose!  Hlala gahle_!

------------------------------------------------------------------------

But though old Untuswa could thus turn in, and with his blanket over his
head could snooze away snugly beneath the shelter of the waggon, to me
slumber refused to come.  The graphic tale I had just heard, the tale of
the first downfall of the Zulu power told in the dead of night on the
very spot whereon had been contested the fierce and determined struggle
which had in effect decided the second--for it was the British success
at Kambula that rendered that at Ulundi assured--this tale, told, too,
by a living actor in those stirring events of the bygone annals of a
martial race, seemed to people all the surrounding waste; and looking
forth, it needed no great tax on the imagination to conjure up the
shades of slain warriors rising in hundreds from their common grave down
yonder on the slope; and, shield and spear-armed, re-forming in wild and
fantastic array of war.

And over and above such fanciful flights it was a tale to set one
thinking--if one had never thought before--of the senselessness of
deciding offhand the morality of this or that deed which helpeth to make
history from one hard-and-fast point of view, and that point of view the
British; or of stigmatising even a savage potentate as a treacherous and
cruel monster, because he is not particular as to his methods when it
becomes a question of preserving his nation's rights and his nation's
greatness, what time such are threatened and invaded by Christians, whom
subsequent events show to be the reverse of models of uprightness or
fair dealing themselves.  And it was even as old Untuswa had said: "You
white people and ourselves see things differently, and I suppose it will
always be so."

Yes, it was a fitting episode in the annals of a warrior nation, that
tale of fierce wars, and intrigue, and sturdy loyalty, and even of a
chivalry, not exactly describable by the term "rude"; most of all, too,
was it a tale essentially human, showing how the same desires and
motives enkindle the same actions and their results in the heart that
beats beneath a brown skin as in that which beats beneath a white one.
And therein, perhaps, lay its greatest charm.