The Induna's Wife

“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. Jambúla 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. Jambúla 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, Jambúla 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, Jambúla,” 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 Jambúla assented.

Now as we travelled onward Jambúla 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 Jambúla, 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 Jambúla 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, Jambúla 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 Jambúla 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, Jambúla.

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 Jambúla 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 Jambúla’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 Jambúla’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 Jambúla’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 Jambúla; 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 Jambúla 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 Untúswa.”

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 Jambúla, 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 Jambúla’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.