The King's Assegai: A Matabili Story

Chapter Three.

The Basutu Kraals

“Shortly after this an impi was sent out against some strong Basutu kraals which lay in our path, and whose inhabitants, our scouts had reported, were arming for resistance. Little they knew that they had to contend against a whole nation. They imagined, doubtless, that they only had to deal with a small impi of Tshaka’s which had crossed the Ewahlamba range.

“‘Go now, Untúswa,’ said the King. ‘Here, it may be, you may win your head-ring.’

“And this, Nkose, was in my mind. So we set forth, about fifteen hundred strong, for the King would not send too large a force, in order to keep us in practice for real hand-to-hand fighting on something like even terms. Masipele was our head induna, and under him was Gungana, a man of whom I was not over-fond, nor did he like me, whom he deemed was ever too near the ear of the King.

“We started at dawn, and after marching about a quarter of a day, came in sight of the Basutu kraals, standing upon an open plain, beneath a low, round-topped range of hills. There were three of these kraals, but it was in the largest that all the fighting men had gathered. This was surrounded by a very high and very broad stockade, composed of dry thorn boughs beaten together and interlaced. We made no attempt at concealment, but advanced singing our great battle-song of victory or death. Their Masipele gave orders to form in crescent formation, and to charge forward to surround the kraal.

“Whau! that day! The Basutu did not run away when they spied our approach. They were ready for us, and, clustering as thick as bees, they fought behind their stockade with all the valour we could wish. Roaring like lions, we sprang again to the charge, only to be met by their ready spears and battle-axes on the other side of the stockade, and before we could leap over and return stab for stab we were hurled back blinded by great prickly boughs thrust into our faces. They were nearly as numerous as ourselves, and fought as desperately. Twice we were repulsed, and that, to us Zulus, represents more than half a defeat. Our head induna was killed, falling upon a heap of corpses, the bodies of those he was leading. One horn of the impi was wavering on the verge of rout. Here was my chance; for I had formed a plan.

“‘Follow me, soldiers of the King!’ I cried. ‘I will find a road in!’

“Measuring the distance with my eyes, I ran and leaped. I could leap in those days as well as run. My leap carried me clear over the stockade, right into the thick of the swarming Basutu. But I was alone. None had followed.

“Then I saw red. How I cut and slashed with the strong, broad – bladed assegai in my hand! Grinning, furious faces hemmed me in; a bright forest of blades struck and hacked at me from every side. I could feel the burning sear of wounds, the stunning shock of knob-kerries on my great war-shield. I could feel more – I could feel blood, that of my enemies; I could feel the keen blade of my assegai shearing through them, as they fell one upon another. Ah, the madness of it! The ecstasy of it! What a glorious form of death was this! I, alone, beset by foes – felling them around me like trees! I, alone, where none had dared follow! Ha! surely no braver deed was ever done! The King would be satisfied now! Dancing, leaping, thrusting, parrying, I hewed my way through the encompassing crowd, further and further into the kraal, further and further to death. But for death I cared nothing now, and I laughed aloud. My furious war-shout was answered by my comrades outside. Ah, but – they were still outside!

“Now my end would be gained. A curl of blue smoke arose from above the lines of huts, and towards this I was making, surely, craftily, cunningly. I had left off fighting now, and was dodging my enemies round and among the huts. Ha! they could not overtake me, for had they not to do with the King’s chief runner? – and there were none to stop me, for all were engaged in defending the stockade.

“The fire at last! It burned bright and clear in front of a larger hut than the rest, and round it sat a ring of witch-doctresses mumbling incantations. So intent were they upon this that I drove my assegai through the nearest before they discovered that a Zulu warrior was in their very midst. Au! the she-cats! What a yell they gave as they flung themselves on the ground and screeched for mercy! But I laughed, and, having speared two more of them as they lay there, I snatched the flaming brands from the fire and flung them upon the thatch of half a dozen of the nearest huts, which in an instant were a mass of flame and smoke.

“All this had taken but a moment of time, and now, as my pursuers came up, I shovelled as much of the fire upon my shield as I had time to do, then started to run, dodging them round the huts as before. As I came to the stockade again, those defending it looked round, and seeing a strange figure bearing fire upon a shield, must have taken me in the fray for one of their own witch-doctresses, and instead of attacking me they waited to see what I would do. But they had not long to wait.

“Darting through them, I poured the whole glowing burning mass into the stockade; and, indeed, it was high time, for my shield was nearly charred through. The thick thorn-fence was as dry as months of uninterrupted sunshine could make it. It caught at once, shooting out into myriads of serpentine tongues of fire. Hau! It roared, it crackled, and already the flames from the huts I had first set on fire were darting like lightning from thatch to thatch!

“‘I return, men of the King!’ I roared, fearing to be mistaken for one of the Basutu and speared as I leaped back over the stockade. A shout of recognition greeted my words, and, striking right and left, I plunged through the now flaming fence, through the fire itself.

“‘Now we have them!’ I cried, as I once more found myself among my own people. ‘A pretty blaze! Now have we smoked the game from its cover!’

“As the words left my lips there burst forth a wild shrieking and yelling. The wind had fanned the flames so that the kraal was now one mass of red fire and whirling smoke-clouds. The women and children, panic-stricken, were fleeing wildly, rushing headlong upon our spears. But just then the fighting Basutu, massing into a body, charged furiously out of the kraal on the side I was attacking. With their heads lowered, emitting from their teeth a succession of the most shrill and strident whistles, striking to right and to left with their assegais and battle-axes, on they came. Not even the King’s troops could have charged more impetuously, more unswervingly. Whau! In a moment they were in our midst. In a moment we had closed up around them. Their whole fighting strength was here, and we had hemmed it in. In a moment they were all broken up into furious struggling groups – and how they fought, how we fought! It was silence then. No man spoke – no man shouted. You could hear only the gasp of laboured breathing, the stamp of striving feet, the jarring crash of shields and weapons, the dull thump of a falling body, the crackling roar of the blazing kraal, whence clouds of smoke were floating across our faces and blinding our eyes so that we could hardly see each other, and struck and stabbed wildly at random, to the peril of friend as well as of foe. But it could not last – we were too many, too invincible. We stood stupidly staring at each other, swaying, tottering with exhaustion and excitement, for the fray had been fierce. Before, around us, lay heaps of weltering corpses, hacked and battered, the blood welling from scores of spear-stabs. These we ripped according to our custom; those of the enemy, that is; for of our own warriors there were also heaps of slain; indeed, the Basutu had fought like cornered lions. No prayer for mercy was upon their lips. Brave, fierce, defiant to the last, they had fallen.

“And now above the crackling roar of the flames and the wild, fierce, triumphant shout which swelled to the heavens from our victorious throats came the doleful shrieking of women, who saw their little ones speared or flung into the flames, who themselves lay beneath the sharp kiss of the spear-blade; for we Zulus, when we see red, spare no living thing. And we saw red that day – ah, yes, we saw red. Ha! By the time a man could have counted fifty from the moment the fighting had ceased not one who had inhabited that kraal, even to the last dog, was left alive.

“‘Hau!’ cried Gungana, the second induna in command of our impi, as he stood gazing upon a heap of the slaughtered women, among whom were several who were young and pleasant to look upon. ‘Hau! I think we have made too much of a mouthful of the King’s enemies. Now, some of these would have been better alive than dead, for of girls among us we have none too many. It is a pity we did not save some.’

“‘Perhaps so,’ said I. ‘But, deferring to your head-ring, O Gungana, I seem to have heard the King say he liked not these intermarriages, and the mingling of the blood of the Amazulu, “the People of the Heavens,” with that of inferior races.’

“I fancied that Gungana looked at me somewhat askance, and a queer smile played about his bearded lips. He was that same induna who had come over to us with Tshaka’s force, and him our King had promoted to great honour.

“‘Whau, Untúswa! Thou art but a boy, and claimest to know over-much of the King’s mind,’ he said.

“‘In fear I do so, my father,’ I replied deferentially. ‘I ask nothing but such a fight as we have had to-day. And have I not fought?’ showing my hacked and charred shield and my body streaming with blood from several ugly gashes. ‘Did I not put in the fire that smoked these wolves out of their den? And now, O my father, will you not whisper it in the ear of the King that the son of Ntelani, although but a boy, can fight, can plan?’

“‘It may be that I will do so, Untúswa,’ he answered.

“But that strange look was still upon his face as he turned away, and I liked it not. For by this time my continual presence about the King was looked upon with distrust by many of the indunas. Even my father was jealous of me, and this being so, wherefore should Gungana look upon me with more favourable eyes? But it was in his power to speak the word which should obtain for me my head-ring, or not to speak it, wherefore I treated him almost as deferentially as I would the King himself. Moreover, I flattered him.

“‘Au!’ I cried, ‘am I not but a thoughtless boy? Who am I that I should boast of my own deeds in the presence of an induna of the King, before the brain which thought for the impi, before the eyes which were the sight of the impi? Let it be but whispered in the King’s ear that the son of Ntelani was near the right hand of Gungana throughout the battle. That will be distinction enough.’

“This told. The induna turned half round to listen, and a different expression came into his face. This time he looked pleased.

“‘Rest easy, son of Ntelani,’ he said. ‘The man whom I sent to set fire to the kraal will not be forgotten.’

“We Zulus are not like you white people, Nkose, whose faces are to be read like a white man reads a book, else had I been quite undone that day. For the idea of setting the kraal on fire had been entirely my own – planned by me, carried out by me alone; that, too, only in time to save us from defeat, which would have meant ruin to Gungana, if not death. And now he coolly gave me to understand that all the credit of it, the generalship of it, was to belong to him. This I had thought was the feat which should win me honour among the people, and my head-ring at the approving word of the King, and now it was all to go to the credit of my commander. I could hardly keep my face from speaking the wrath and disgust I felt – yet I did so, and called out that Gungana was my father, and as his child I had been privileged to do his bidding. For although it flashed upon me that if ever a day of reckoning should come Gungana would fare badly at my hands, yet now I wanted his good word; wherefore I flattered him.

“Just then my eye was attracted by a movement among a heap of bodies lying piled up near me. I thought I heard a smothered groan. Then all the wolf-nature of my warrior blood sprang up within me. Here, then, was something more to slay. Good! With kindling eyes I gripped anew my broad assegai and leaped to the group of bodies. Yes; it was a groan. A pair of legs was protruding from the pile and feebly moving. Seizing them by the ankles, I tugged with all my might.

“‘Come forth,’ I growled, for I was holding my assegai in my mouth to leave both hands free. ‘Come forth, and taste blade over again. Ha! killing is the only thing good to live for, after all. Come forth!’

“Jerking out these words, I threw the corpses aside as one might throw faggots from a stack of firewood. Then another tug, and I found I was holding by the legs the body of an old man, wrinkled and white-bearded. Beyond a gash or two in the chest, he seemed unwounded, but his head was covered with blood. Clearly, a blow had felled him, but how was he still alive, how had he escaped being ripped, as is our custom?

“‘Ha! I will make that good,’ I muttered savagely, seizing my assegai with that intent.

“But something in the old man’s aspect arrested my arm.

“He was, as I have said, very wrinkled and white-bearded. But his eyes – ah, such eyes! bright, keen, glittering – they were the eyes of a youth who, shoulder to shoulder with his fellow-warriors, is sweeping down upon his first enemy, instead of the filmy orbs of an old man who is tired of looking on this world. They seemed to burn, to pierce through me, to wither up all the strength of my right arm. I could not strike the spear down into his vitals; I could not remove my gaze from his. It was terrible! If his eyes burned like this while he was weak and wounded, and almost lifeless, what would they be like in the full vigour of health? And then I saw that his neck and body were hung with trappings and charms such as the izanusi (Witch-doctors) use.

“‘Strike and slay me, if thou wilt, son of the King’s induna,’ he said, and his eyes seemed to glitter more fiercely, like those of a snake. ‘But if so, thou shalt never attain thy dearest desire.’

“‘Son of the King’s induna,’ he had said. This was tagati (Wizardry) indeed. How did he know my estate?

“‘And what desire I the most at this moment?’ said I.

“‘The head-ring,’ he whispered.

“‘All young warriors desire that,’ I answered with a laugh. ‘Tell me, O my father, if thy múti is strong enough, what desire I further, together with the isicoco?’

“‘The dark-handled assegai of the King,’ he answered, without a moment’s pause.

“‘Whau!’ I cried, bringing my hand to my mouth, and starting back in staring, open-mouthed amazement. This was more than marvellous. The promise which Umzilikazi had made to me, half laughingly, when we two were alone together, was known to this old sorcerer of an alien race, who must have been many days distant at the time. Nor, of course, had he ever seen Nangeza, who alone shared the secret. My desire for the head-ring proved nothing as to his wonder-working powers, because, as I had said, all young men wished for that. But this! In truth it was more than marvellous!

“‘Thy múti is indeed strong, O my father!’ I went on when I had recovered a little. ‘But say – shall I obtain that which I desire?’

“‘If I die here thou shalt never obtain it. If I live thou shalt have the King’s dark-handled assegai.’

“Now, while I had been talking with this wonderful old man, my comrades and the bulk of our impi had been seated on the ground resting after the violence and fury of the fight. Some, too, had wounds to attend to; but all were sitting or lying about resting, and the place where I now stood being a little depression in the ground, they had not noticed me. Now, however, attracted by the sound of voices, several of them came swaggering up.

“‘Ha, Untúswa!’ roared the foremost. ‘You have found more meat to kill. Come, we will help you kill it.’ And, poising his assegai, he sprang forward to the old Mosutu witch-doctor.

(Mosutu and Basutu. Basutu is a plural word, and denotes the tribe, or more than one member of it. The singular is Mosutu.)

“‘Stand! Stand back!’ I thundered. ‘This is not a man to kill. He must be taken to the King.’

“‘To the King! Ha, ha! The King does not want to see the faces of such withered old images. You are mad, Untúswa.’

“‘Mad or sane, this man shall be taken to the King,’ I answered.