The Induna's Wife

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, Untúswa,” 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.