The Induna's Wife

So rapid had been Jambúla’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 Jambúla, 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 “Bayéte!” 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 Untúswa, 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, Untúswa, 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.”