The Induna's Wife

Right down we went. The black might of our retreating nation was halting now, rolling up in waves; and there, on the very spot where we were finally repulsed by you English in the battle of Nodwengu, Nkose, when we thought to eat up your red square of soldiers, there did we wanderers, whose lives were forfeit, bring our lives in our hands to lay them at the feet of the King.

(The battle historically known to us as that of Ulundi is always termed by the Zulus the battle of Nodwengu, because fought nearest to the kraal of that name.)

I had sent on men in advance to announce our arrival, and now, as we drew near, the army opened on either side of us so as to leave us a broad road.

A dead silence lay upon the whole dense array. I gave one glance back at those I led – led, it might be, to their death. Truly, a more warrior-like band never desired to serve any King. Their fugitive life had hardened the Bapongqolo. Even the picked regiments of Dingane’s army could not surpass them for hardihood and uprightness of bearing; and though we were probably going to our death, my blood thrilled with pride that I was the elected leader of so splendid a band.

I gave a signal, and striking their shields in measure as they marched, the Bapongqolo raised a great song in praise of Dingane:

“There hovers aloft a bird,
An eagle of war,
In circles and swoop
It floats above the world.
The eye of that eagle
Would burn up the world.
But the world is allowed to live.
So clement, so merciful, is that eagle who restrains his wrath.
He retires but to swoop and strike again.
Hau! The enemies of that war-eagle
shall melt away like yonder smoke.
A vulture who devours the flesh of men;
So is that bird.
Yonder is flesh that he shall presently eat.
So great is he,
He retires but to swoop and strike again.”

So our song thundered forth as we marched straight onward. I gave another signal. Immediately every shield and weapon fell to the ground with one crash, and advancing nearer weaponless, we bent low, a forest of heads, and from every tongue in one roar there ascended the “Bayéte.” For we were now in the presence of the King.

In stern silence Dingane sat gazing upon us. Then he, too, gave a signal. Immediately an armed regiment moved across our rear. Between us and the weapons we had thrown down stood a wall of armed men, and in this I read our sentence of death. We had risked our chance and had foiled. By my counsels, I had led these hundreds of brave men to their doom.

Chapter Twenty One.

The Embassy of Tambusa

“What do I see? Untúswa, the wanderer? Untúswa, who fled from the north to konza to another King? Ha! Greeting, Untúswa, for it seems long since we have beheld thee.”

So spake Dingane, softly, flatteringly, even as Umzilikazi was wont to do what time the stake or the alligators were preparing for somebody, and I indeed felt dead already.

“And these,” went on the King, bending his stern gaze upon my following. “A warrior-like band indeed, and it seems a pity to slay such, yet must they all die.”

This he said almost to himself, else had the slayers been at work already. And I – the boldness of desperation came into me then.

“We are the King’s cattle,” I said. “We are here to place our lives beneath the foot of the Elephant. Yet, O Ruler of the World, there are some who should taste the goring of our horns. We are the King’s fighting-bulls. And, Great Great One, suffer us ere we die to spill once more the blood of the King’s enemies.”

“Yet, Untúswa, it sometimes happens that fighting-bulls, growing mad, turn and gore their owners. They had better have been slain first,” said Dingane, with dark suspicion in his tone.

Now I saw what was to be done, though I hardly knew what to say.

“I would ask the Great Great One wherefore these are here at all, but that they may drink the blood of the King’s enemies?” I urged, amazed at my own boldness. “Were they here for any other purpose, why then they were already dead, Father of the Wise. Au! they seek but to die in the ranks of those who fight. That is all, Calf of a Black Bull.”

And they on whose behalf I spoke uttered a great murmur of assent, together with words of bonga and the King’s titles.

Then I saw Dingane whisper to one who sat near him, and this one retired. Whau! that was a moment. We who sat there seemed already dead. Around crouched the two immense half circles of armed warriors, their shields lying on the ground before them – all in dead silence – and in his great chair made out of the carved trunk of a tree, the great white shield held aloft at the back of his head, the King sat, silent, stern, gloomy looking. His attitude was that of one who waited. Waited for what? For the carrying out of his order decreeing, our death?

Then some new event was astir. There stood before the King a woman. Now my followers dared to breathe again, and the sound went up from every chest like a sob of relief. And seeing who the woman was, my own relief became greater still, for she was my sorceress-wife.

“Hearken, Mahlula,” said the King. “See you these?”

“I see them, Great Great One,” she answered, sweeping a majestic glance over us. “They are those known as the Bapongqolo. They are here to lay their lives beneath the foot of the Elephant, and to crave the right to die fighting for him.”

“And how dost thou know that, my sister?” said Dingane suspiciously.

“It is easily known, Father of the Wise, and that not even by my múti,” she answered. “There are many among them known by name, and all have the look of forest-dwellers. And he at their head, look at him.”

“Ha! And is it for good or for ill that they are here?”

“For good, Ruler of the Great. For these are fine wielders of the spear. And they are many,” she answered.

“That is well,” said Dingane. “You wanderers, I give you your lives. You shall join these lion-cubs, and plenty of prey lies awaiting your teeth.”

For some moments, Nkose, the roar that went up from all men’s throats would seem about to split the world, for to the praises rolled forth from those who were thus spared was added the bonga of the whole army.

“Now talk we of Untúswa,” said the King, when this had quieted down. “There is that about him which I like not entirely. What of him, Mahlula?”

She looked at me long and earnestly, as though she had never seen me before, but in her sweet eyes I read hope and courage. Then she said:

“I think he is a born leader of warriors, Great Great One.”

“Ha! Now shalt thou have a chance of showing thy powers, Mahlula,” said the King. “Thou, Untúswa,” pointing at me with his assegai, “shalt also be put to the proof. I name these the Bapongqolo, and of this regiment I create thee induna, for I have not yet known the predictions of Mahlula to prove false. Retire now with thy men and form them up among those yonder.”

They who had custodied us now fell back, and as we all gathered up our weapons again we thundered forth the war-song of Dingane. Then, when we had formed up at the place pointed out to as, in truth it seemed that the army had received a most valuable addition in ourselves. Then dancing was ordered, and the slaughter of cattle, and there was much feasting.

Now during an earlier part of the war the Amabuna had sent messages to Dingane proposing peace, and to such the King had listened. Trouble was threatening at home, for Mpande, the brother of Dingane, was still plotting, and had by now collected a considerable following. Further, the Amabuna were increasing in strength, numbers having crossed the mountains to join them; moreover, several of the tribes who did konza to the royal House had forgotten their tribute, sheltering themselves behind the Amabuna. So Dingane had listened to the peace proposals of the Amabuna, and had agreed to pay nearly twenty thousand cattle, and to return the guns and horses taken at Nkunkundhlovu. For a space then there was peace. The Amabuna did not even want the cattle just then; they would rather we should herd them for the time being. So far good.

But one day there came news. Mpande had crossed the Tugela and had fled to the Amabuna, declaring that he feared for his life. Au! and long since he would have owned no life to fear for, had the King but listened to the counsels of Tambusa, who would have caused him to be slain. But it was too late now, and already Dingane had reason to repent him of his mercy, for now that Mpande had promised them to divide the nation the Amabuna, ignoring all former promises and arrangements, sent word to Dingane demanding from him double the number of cattle at first agreed upon, and without even awaiting his reply they prepared to advance upon Nkunkundhlovu.

Not for nothing had Mpande plotted. He had gained over to his cause Nongalaza, an induna of importance. Nongalaza was old, and suffered from swollen limbs; but he was a skilled and courageous commander, and he took with him to the side of Mpande and the Amabuna the strength of four full regiments.

Now Dingane sent an embassy to the leaders of the Amabuna, and the induna he chose as his “mouth” was Tambusa. He had better have chosen some other messenger – better for Tambusa, but not better for me, Nkose, for it was during Tambusa’s absence that I and the Bapongqolo arrived to place our lives in the hand of the King.

This, then, is what was happening at that time within the camp of the Amabuna, and the tale I have from the mouths of several among those who had fled with Mpande and who witnessed that which was now done.

Tambusa entered the camp of the Amabuna attended by Nkombazana, one of his own followers. He was received but coldly by the Amabuna. Why had they broken faith with the Great Great One who sits at Nkunkundhlovu? he asked. They had demanded twice the number of cattle at first agreed upon. They were preparing to invade the country, and had declared their intention of setting up Mpande as King, having deposed Dingane. Who were they who took to themselves the right to make and unmake Kings for the Zulu nation? asked Tambusa, proud and defiant. Dingane was King of the Zulu nation, and as King he would live and die.

“Ah! die perhaps, that is right,” said one of the Amabuna, with an evil laugh.

“A King of the Amazulu does not die of words nor of fear,” replied Tambusa, fiercely scornful. “Yet hearken to my message, even the ‘word’ of the Great Great One, whose mouth I am. Thus he speaks: ‘We made an agreement, have I not kept it? I have returned the guns and horses I promised; I have sent in part of the cattle I promised, I would have sent in all, but you preferred to leave the remainder with me for the present. Well, it is there, send and take it, or shall I send it in? Now you demand twice the number, and this I do not understand. Now you prepare to invade us in armed force, and threaten to make Mpande King in my place. This also I do not understand, and have sent my induna, Tambusa, as my “mouth” to say so. He is also my “ears,” and will listen to and bring back your words to me.’ Thus spoke the Great Great One by whose light we live.”

“Ha! The Great Great One by whose light we live!” jeered some of the Amabuna. “A Great Great murderer, who shall soon die.”