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’eziténi,
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 “Bayéte,” 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 “Bayéte” 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, Untúswa!” 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.