The Induna's Wife

“Ah – ah, Untúswa,” 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, Untúswa,” 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 Untúswa 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, Untúswa,” 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, Untúswa,” 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, Untúswa, 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, Untúswa?”

“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, Untúswa, 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 ‘Bayéte’ 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, Untúswa?” 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.